THE HORSE LATITUDES

With full berth and tethered sail I ventured on consignment
To cross high tide in heavy wind for sympathetic climates
My crew agreed to navigate the Austral Seamount Chain
Negotiate the Cape Of Horn and Polynesian Bay

Tribulation seized us in the Equatorial Current
Leaden sky, gale force wind, wall of sea like turrets

The first to fall, our medic, followed by my sextant
Crucial to the nauticals of any expedition
Next the sea claimed tragic men strung upon the mast
Pitched them through a tempest with an icon’ s fervent wrath

Abdication calmed the beast, roaring in respite
Content with soulful mariners, kindled by their lives

The sea, my only mistress, exotic, without fault
Faithful as her trade wind belts, loyal as her calms
The sea, my jealous temptress, struck at me in vain
When I sailed upon her tide pursuing fiscal gain

3 years volunteered earned Midshipman rank
A decade passed, ambition grasped the chance to re-acquaint
The need to heed desire’s seed, wealthy Alderman’s daughter
Product for sale, short shelf life, across uncharted waters

Paternal loans secured, my ship sailed out to sea
Where faithful men held sway upon windbound geography

The sea, my gentle temptress, exotic, full of splendor
Luring me with fantasies of sensual adventure
The sea, my elder mentor, filled me with ambition
When I sailed upon her tide with hope, longing, conviction

More desirable than silver, more valuable than gold
The consignment stock remained unharmed deep within the hold
Ten days since our reckoning the sky still gave us pause
Behind its charcoal canopy hid the Southern Cross

No wind to stir the sails, no star to guide the ship
In lieu of maritime allegiance my vessel lay adrift

The sea, my spiteful mistress, righteous in degree
Vengeful as her distant wind, shallow as her streams
The sea, my wicked temptress, burdened me with strife
When I failed to heed the beacon in her turning tide

Luck had not foreseen the storm, fortune held no sway
Nor would the sea concede envy to its helpless prey
Promised compensation, benefit to forget
Desperation filled my crew with a fool’s regret

Portions turned to rations, fear to destiny
Ship leaks in the hold, nearing mutiny

The sea, my angry widow, under your enthrall
Lead me to your gentle breeze, fury, transom, squall
The sea, my wicked jury, judgment pardon me
For I surrender to your deadlight infamy

The first to fall the Shires, workers, taught with length
Next, the wild Pintabian, known for speed and strength
Afternoon drew down the sun, horses fled the hold
Halfinger and Clydesdale, submerged to lighten load

Sacrificial sacrament, equine drowning near
Brought the wind once again with force enough to steer

The sea, my gracious savior, righteous in degree
Traded survival for a promise of economy
The sea, my elder mentor, tutored me condition
Never barter life while sailing her rendition

THE BALLAD OF THE SOLITARY ROSE

The reason for this sorrow, lest I shall forget
Has more in common with desire than loss of innocence
Friend refill my empty glass and I’ll tell the tale
Of turquoise waters tempting men to hoist naïve sails
With a promise of enrapture in romantic minds
And a course set for a heaven no sextant could find

I met a fine fellow, his will all but frayed
Yet the grace of a diver his manner did show
He unraveled his reasons and cause for dismay
Praising the poison he’d come to know
Each falling tear, each display of emotion
Rekindled his grief with a pledge of devotion

He sipped his drink to soothe a wound which would not heal nor close
And sang to me his ballad of the solitary rose

“Oh, the sea was once my friend but this was long ago
Long before the winds of change softly began to blow
I drifted with a stringent current in search of sacred land
Only to wake upon a reef of broken hearted men
I have one solitary love, more beauty than a dove
With the strength of an eagle soaring the sky above
There’s no caress so gentle, no smile so kind
As the comfort she bestows when I gaze in her eyes
She’ll seduce your passion while her mind you adore
And by the time you’ve set sail, tears flow through your port
No malice shall find her, no bitterness you
Only the desire to fulfill what you cannot undo
Still waters run forever when there’s no possession
And gifted is the tender flower with subtle affliction
She’ll always be with me, long after the winds have blown
For she is perfection, this solitary rose”

He offered me his withered smile and quivering refrain
Proposed our toast from a snifter brimmed with Grand Marnier
“To my broken heart, the love which I confess
And the many sleepless nights when sorrow shares my bed”
He spoke with great conviction of a beauty near divine
I deferred to temptation, sought to make her mine

This flower could not be found in the garden of my past
Nor could I perceive her slipping from the promise of my grasp
Through the evening of loneliness I held not this special flower
Tempting emotion in many hearts while mine refused to cower
Until adrift I lay like moonlight on the ocean
And found my heart melt in an embrace of pure emotion

She soothed me with a feeling I’d no strength to oppose
For its true I’d fallen for the solitary rose

The days we shared were few, less than a summer season
And though she left my soul intact, I lost all sense of reason
Like the tide which crawls in vain for the comfort of the shore
So my heart would grow to miss the comfort of the rose
And comfort is something I rarely find
In bottles of whisky and tumblers of rye

I cannot deny this emotion, for it is the wound I chose
So I sing to you my ballad of the solitary rose

The sea was once my friend, but oh, so long ago
Long before the wind of change swept in a virgin snow
I drifted with the current through straits of foolish men
Only to wake a shattered heart as I lay upon the sand
I have but one single love, more beauty than a dove
With the grace of an eagle soaring the sky above
There’s no caress so gentle, no smile so kind
As the comfort she bestowed in such little time
She’ll entice desire while her mind you adore
And by the time you’ve set sail tears flow through your port
No malice will find her, no bitterness you
Only the wish to fulfill what you cannot undo
Waters run forever deep where ripples no possession
And gifted is the tender flower with subtle affliction
She’ll always be with me, long after stars cease to glow
For she is perfection, my solitary rose

I offer you a withered smile of reluctance and of truth
Raise my glass in a toast of whisky and vermouth
Here’s to my broken heart, the tears I’ve yet to shed
To the many sleepless nights when sorrow shares my bed
And as I sipped to soothe a wound which would not heal nor close
My young friend set sail for the Isle of the Solitary Rose

A STORY NEVER TOLD

Dropping on the blacktop, resigned to his demise
Powerless to help those whom the social contract binds
He could’ve been a wealthy man, attorney, athlete, king
Instead, he kneels before the world drenched in gasoline

The truth behind his immolation only some will guess
Most believe the prevaricating corporate sponsored press
Lies and innuendo, lead-ins buried deep
The audacity of suicide on our city streets

They all misspell his name, say he’s young or old
No one bothers checking out a story never told

He’s a radioactive superman with piercing x-ray eyes
He’s a lionhearted soldier in the war of compromise
He’s a street walking messiah on a self-destructive trip
He’s a riddled mass of molten flesh on a stillborn crucifix

Born outside Chicago, raised in New York State
Graduated 3rd from Yale in ’68
Turned his back on degrees, chose to heal the meek
A patron saint for many whom fortune fails to reach

They may forget his name, but he touched their souls
And since his efforts helped the mute his story’s never told

He’s a long forgotten broker in the policy of truth
He’s an advocate of terror with a dreamer’s waning youth
He’s a self-indulgent martyr ill equipped to win the duel
He’s a court of resolution doused in super octane fuel

Pestilence concedes a love for penury and haste
Striking when support’s removed without a moment’s waste
The learned man, his empty hands, wears a beggar’s clothes
Pitied like a simpleton in lieu of all he knows

They recognized his name but retained control
Kicked him to the curb where his story’s never told

He’s a symphony of rhetoric with an audience of one
He’s a steel-toed wheeler-dealer stomping on the favorite son
He’s a national indictment waving guilty pleas
He’s an antiquated eulogy of fuel injected dreams

Knock on any door, it closes in your face
Request a small donation, they put you in your place
Seek a cure for ills the White House gives no credence
The final card left to play is civil disobedience

He knew they might forget his name as he stepped out in the cold
Scraped a match on the street where his story’s never told

He’s a blooming supernova on a foggy winter night
He’s a chalk mark in a rainstorm carried by a gutter’s might
He’s the orphan son of consummating politics with gold
He’s an everyman, a pauper’s grave, and his story’s never told

BLOOD WILL TELL

He asked me, “Was it worth it? In lieu of what befell?”
But truth is not an absolute when only blood will tell
If kinship, romance, fact and fiction are truly what they seem
And if six friends will sacrifice their lives or self esteem

I only wanted truth, the others, let me say
Each of us has desire which may create dismay

Together we would beat the odds by using equal force
Swiftly claiming casino gamings then rushing out the door
With weapons at the ready, triggers at the quick
And only 90 seconds to justify the risk

We came, we saw, we conquered, overthrew a throne
Screamed across the Golden Dunes into Mexico

Some will tell of victory as others tell of loss
Some will tally winnings as others tally costs
But when it comes to loyalty and the water which it swells
Only blood knows the depth, only blood will tell

We followed the Spanish Trail like Gringos in a line
Celebrated like Conquistadors in the El Dorado mines
Siesta in the afternoon, fiesta through the night
And not a hint of distant winds about to turn the tide

All for one and one for all when money gets divided
A share for each who ran the risk for what the risk provided

To each his own, fond farewell, silence won’t betray you
Unless a tongue wets its whistle to avoid the legal statute
Agreed, each share stays complete, 12 months to the day
We wept and vowed allegiance before we parted ways

East and west, north and south, only I remained
Living life as before with debts I worked to pay

Some will strive for glory as others strive for love
Some want it all for whoring as others rise above
But when it comes to money and the myth which it dispels
Only blood knows right from wrong, only blood will tell

Chipping at their bounty, some chipped away their vows
In delusional assumption of talents unendowed
Twelve months passed before the year as dollars turned to cents
Luring a pair in self-deception to seek the throne again

Their weapons all but shaking, their triggers all but slick
90 seconds devoured them like vipers in a pit

You never know what you’ll do when push proceeds to shove
Nor how you’ll rearrange events when torture’s not a bluff
I like to think I am a man whose vows are his beliefs
But then again I’ve never had a soft spot for deceit

A subtle click rustled me in the dark and silent night
I found myself staring down a Kickman’s .45

Some will cry in panic as others weep in peace
Some will run the gamut as others softly plead
But when it comes to self-respect and the region where it dwells
Only blood knows the border, only blood will tell

Across the floor spread my share, complete, as yet unbound
Denominations wrapped with their faded bands around
His fists and words flew at me, but each and every time
I refused to name my partners in the 90-second crime

“We’re the last of a dying breed,” he whispered in my ear
“Who keep their word despite the debt, the doubt, the mortal fear”

Once the blood is shed, the line can’t be erased
The mark burns deep within your soul like a scar upon your face
Five of six broke an oath, turned against the rest
Provided shares in deficit before they met their death

Holstering his gun, he smiled a crooked line
Dispersed the truth and mystery of blood he left behind

Some would die in morning; some would die at night
Some would cry imploring as others calmly lied
But when it came to resolve and the suffering it quelled
Only blood knew dispensation, only blood would tell

With bruises on my body, lacerations on my head
I watched him bag the faded bands, set them on the bed
He asked me, “Was it worth it? In lieu of what befell?”
But truth is not an absolute when only blood will tell

“I hold no grudges, nor do I curse those left for dead
I only know my solemn code and try to live by it”

He exited the door, forever from my life
And for all the logic in the world I still don’t know why
An angel’s wings enshrouded me with moral predilections
Endearing a man of lethal means with mutual discretions

We only seek veracity, others, let me say
Each of us has desire which may create dismay

Some are friends for purpose; some are friends for sin
Some are friends despite the odds and last until the end
But when it comes to judging the criterion we compel
Only blood knows the truth, only blood will tell

HOME INVASION

Searchlights streak the summer sky, but they won’t find me
Lost within a crowd of anonymity
Choppers buzz perimeters, Cruisers roam the streets
Martial Law procedure in an urban hide and seek

Yellow tape unrolls and rips, Detectives reach the scene
Flashing badges, taking notes, employing scrutiny

They’ll never know the reasons, never hear the truth
Never make amends to the cheaper roofs
They’ll never break the pattern, never ease the plight
With trickle down epiphanies, a thousand points of light

To understand why evil crosses county lines
Question, first, economy, how it subdivides
The root to this equation, in and of itself
Is a simple ratio: poverty to wealth

Yellow tape unrolls and rips, Detectives scour the crime
Manifesting motives in a brutal homicide

They’ll never know the logic, never hear the cries
Never ease the suffering of those left behind
They’ll never stop the madness, never clean the slate
With kinder, gentler eulogies fed on dirty plates

The choice of venue thrown to fate, caution to the wind
Morality in accord with means to reach an end
Policy denies the poor an honest living wage
Sealing Social Contracts, burning primal rage

Yellow tape unrolls and rips, Detectives study clues
Contemplating angry men with nothing left to lose

They’ll never know the motives, never hear the lies
Never raise the gates to the idle standing by
They’ll never approve justice, never petition peace
With special interest jargon rewriting history

Between quest and goal, porch light softly beams
A push upon a frame gives way to forced entry
Potted plants, welcome mats, fear, surprise and panic
Fill unsuspecting families who took the law for granted

Yellow tape unrolls and rips, Detectives draw no leads
Brokering their future should the case embrace defeat

They’ll never know the anger, never hear the screams
Never watch their children shiver in a hungered sleep
They’ll never open dialogues, never offer care
With promises to lower tax on money just not there

Rock the cradle, carve a roast, sip your Chardonnay
Lease the latest and the greatest while on holiday
Enjoy the moments of your life until they pass you by
Like slides upon a bloody wall or lethal lullabies

Yellow tape unrolls and rips, Detectives reach the scene
Flashing badges at another murder-robbery

They’ll never know the danger, never hear the creak
Never turn away from the havoc of their greed
They’ll never see tomorrow, never spend a dime
On penny pinching HMO’s, suburban nursery rhymes

THE WINDMILL

Off an open stretch of road I met my destiny
Though it would take more than time for it to summon me
Years would pass, lives would change, penance would be served
Still the truth of what transpired had yet to be heard

The wheels of justice spin, and its eyes are blind
So when an innocent falls prey it comes as no surprise
Despite the risk of consequence I offer this contrition
For the sins I partook of my own volition

My conscience has been set aflame, burning through the night
Like a windmill turning, with no end in sight

Rolling through the western planes he crossed the Golden Dunes
To overwhelm me with his strength, mystery and swoon
Wicked days creased his face, cool nights filled his heart
Half his age, but in full bloom, with him I would depart

I called the Southwest home since the bequest of my life
Weary of the customary, longed to be a stranger’s wife
On my birthday he appeared, we toasted seventeen
Then headed for the open road and backseat chivalry

The darkness veiled our passion, though nothing was in sight
Except a windmill standing in the still of night

Rumbling through the desert, a rookie road the Dunes
Pitting his car against the power nature has assumed
Wicked days seared his fan, cool nights broke its belt
And though we thought he posed a threat he merely sought our help

The desert hides its treachery like a man who hides his shame
Thus, my sojourn would reveal, they are one and the same
Bright lights swirled the summer night in beams of blue and red
But before the rookie radioed a bullet pierced his head

Waves of crimson blurred the moon, back roads bought us time
Only the windmill knew we were guilty of the crime

Roaring through the Golden Dunes we left blood in the sand
Killed a shield before he’d field a .38’s command
Wicked days we killed for need, cool nights killed for greed
Through it all I remained for the love which I perceived

By the time pacific tides cleansed our killing hands
A transient stood trial for The Slayings In The Sand
He’d wandered through the Bible Belt then cruised off further west
To barter us the smoking gun for an engraved crucifix

A love professed caused others death and bound me for life
Like a windmill turning without purpose or pride

Regretting the murders in the Dunes yielded little good
And with the man who took my hand I coped as best I could
Wicked days I feared his wrath, cool nights took from me
What other men would pay him for but a wife gives willingly

He broke my heart but freed my mind from relentlessly
Longing for a man of strength and mystery
My dreams are filled with windmills swirling ’round my head
Faces of the good natured I led into death

My conscience has been pierced, bleeding from the vein
Like a windmill churning out a copper shade of rain

Returning to the desert planes where stretch the Golden Dunes
I confess these sins, forgiveness unassumed
Wicked days I lured them, cool nights flagged them down
Though I didn’t shed their blood my guilt is still profound

Off this open stretch of road I’ll meet my destiny
In the flash of a trigger blast it will summon me
From my neck hangs the drifter’s silver crucifix
And a map of death upon Route 66

My conscience rests in the peaceful slumber of my suicide
Like a windmill silent in the dark of night

Rolling through the western planes stretch the Golden Dunes
Hitting man with all the power nature has assumed
Wicked days feed birds of prey, cool nights wolves command
But only the windmill knows the secrets strewn across the sand

THE ROOKIE

For twenty years I wore the badge on a khaki colored shirt
Carried a gun, upheld the law, vowed to protect and serve
Those years don’t mean much to me now, since The Slayings In The Sand
Claimed the life of a rookie under my command

I always loved the desert, its dry air and its tint
Thought I’d live out the days until my story’s end
But like a windmill in the Dunes I have my secrecy
Of transitory vengeance, employed by decree

“Officer down, Officer down,” the voice cried through the phone
“Officer down, Officer down,” my rookie on patrol

Six foot one with sandy hair to match his light brown eyes
A boyish frame which betrayed his years of twenty-five
A graduate with honors from Police Academy
His dream of law enforcement met a cruel destiny

Roaring through the desert beneath cobalt colored night
The siren wailed my approach to swirling crimson lights
Skidding to a stop I tore through yellow tape
Surrounding the rookie’s catastrophic brush with morbid fate

Shot in the head, left for dead, a .38 in his grasp
The only witness, a windmill, silent in the aftermath

Five foot five with big blue eyes to match her cool demeanor
A feminine frame which betrayed her fidelity’s behavior
Married less than seven months to the Southwest’s new recruit
Her dream of matrimony’s filed under “Routine Pursuit”

A rookie never rides alone but he persuaded me
The desert hides only shadows, never treachery
He drove off in the cobalt night, across the Golden Dunes
Pitting his car against the power nature has assumed

Despite the risk of consequence I offer my contrition
For succumbing to his wish and granting my permission

Six foot four with callused pours to match my craggy voice
A portly frame which betrays a reticence of choice
Years of service as guardian to my community
Couldn’t prepare this somber Captain for a rookie’s eulogy

The investigation found no leads, no suspects, nor a motive
The only clue a metal slug Ballistics dubbed “The Votive”
By decree we vowed to solve the murder on our hands
And the killer on a spree of Slayings In The Sand

Against the wall I found myself, like a windmill in the sun
Until Tucson detained a man with The Votive’s smoking gun

Five foot nine with narrow eyes to match his intellect
A skinny frame which betrayed the debt I would collect
Days of stating, never swaying, the transient professed
He bartered a cross for the gun with a couple headed west

The Wheels Of Justice spin, and its eyes are blind
But I’ve watched the guilty walk one too many times
Larceny, burglary, warrants, cause, Miranda
Tonight the law protects my motivated propaganda

The letter of the law spelled out his extradition
To a Southwest holding cell and a moral obligation

Five by six with narrow slits for water, food and air
A metal frame which betrays its rust and disrepair
In the night a muffled cry marked the worldly end
For the guilty who spilled my rookie’s blood on desert sand

The murder solved I dissolved my Southwest Precinct tenure
Settled in a rural town, escaped my public figure
The warm summer breeze reminds me of a rookie in my command
For whom I upheld the law by killing a guilty man

THE BRIDGE

The sun heats up this little room, here I must reside
Rebelling from the demons like a child who won’t abide
Without a haven to be found, no sanctuary either
Only futile substances stave off this desire

Thirty marks upon the wall since the last reunion
Thirty days of freedom from a life and death communion

I never cross the bridge by choice nor willingly comply
‘Cause morality and circumstance rarely coincide
I feel the fear, it’s creeping near, I’m failing in its stead
For each attempt to dull the point gleams a tapered edge

I’m falling in a chasm of compulsionary sin
Despite suppresionary means, I’ve crossed the bridge again

I’ve killed in Jersey, killed in Berkeley, killed in Darianne
Took a young girl on a spree of slayings in the sand
I’ve killed in Boston, killed in Memphis, killed in San Antone
While a family safely slumbered in their summer home

Over the bridge, instinct rules, calm and cool, collected
Luring me to lethal grounds where prey can be inspected
Life and law have no affect, restraint escapes my grasp
I’m trolling for a proxy to the demons of my past

Unbeknownst the victim strolls, their face an apparition
For they’ve crossed the bridge to my subconscious affirmation

I’ve killed in Portland, killed in Stanford, killed in New Orleans
The swamps enshroud the many wraiths who died at my decree
I’ve killed in Detroit, killed in Tulsa, killed in Chapel Hill
Where it took weeks to cross the bridge and days for blood to spill

I’m haunted by archaic voices, this I won’t deny
Accede to your defenses and you may survive
But talk with me incessantly and my beguiling charm
Will shepherd a sacrificial lamb to consecrated harm

My words sustain tranquillity until the trammel springs
Seizing you on the bridge to immortality

I’ve killed in Redlands, killed in Freeport, killed in Lincoln County
Followed a good ole boy into a closed down local foundry
I’ve killed in Wheaten, killed in Fargo, killed on Interstates
While I cruised the badlands with an unsuspecting waif

Brutal torture purges my emotional entrapments
Cleanses every pore through ritualistic reenactment
Demons scurry in a fury as apparitions plea
For euthanasia or a painless death with dignity

The climax surges through me like a Holy privilege
Leading back to normalcy found across the bridge

I’ve killed in sunlight, killed in darkness, killed in rain and sleet
But the killing always fails to make my soul complete
I’ve killed in summer, killed in winter, killed in spring and fall
Killed so many times a count’s impossible

The fleeting nature of the ritualistic reenactments
Are reminisced through totems, collected by detachment
Preservation never takes and as the totem fades
The specters of my past echo like a masquerade

Without a haven to be had, no sanctuary either
The only choice wears on me like a bridge across desire

I’ve killed in Phoenix, killed in Denver, killed in Tennessee
Killed enough to wish the law would imprison me
I’ve killed in Rochelle, killed in Barstow, killed in Barringten
And unless I learn to burn my bridges I’ll kill and kill again

THE PALADIN

Lurking in the shadows like a hooded mask of death
Appraising passersby for weakness, fear, unrest
Ready at a moment’s call to pounce, attack, defeat
Any form of evil prowling any city street

I’ve seen The Paladin, at best a brief encounter
Occurring in such lurid haste I’m obliged to wonder
If indeed gratitude belongs to another
Who placed himself in jeopardy while I vanished undercover

In a time of blatant crime, valor intervenes
Employing neither gun nor badge, agenda nor deceit

Some say he’s a predator on a path of pure vindiction
To others he’s an outlaw inviting contradiction
Arriving without notice he’s a suped up everyman
Who carries justice in his heart, fights until the end

The line between a hero and a man who strives to be
Separates civil unrest from personality
An alpha male will seize the day, then his just reward
While The Paladin breezes in, asks for nothing more

To serve us all he wanders municipalities
Fleshing out wanton lust and urban malady

Some say he’s a junkie with a Mephistophelean call
To others he’s a champion of ancient Celtic law
Arriving without provocation he’s the savior of the day
Who carries justice in his heart, holds evil at bay

Cursing near the entrance of the Local Twenty-Two
Where engine seizure stranded me on Western Avenue
No taxi on the curb, no cruiser in my sight
I began a steady pace beneath jagged neon lights

A toolbelt strapped around my waist, a watch, some change, my keys
Little had I to oblige a sidestreet robbery

Some say he’s a conspirator with a tell tale sense of time
To others he’s a bitter member of the thin blue line
Arriving without beckoning he’s a wonder in disguise
Who carries justice in his heart while danger’s on the rise

Rising out of darkness strode The Paladin
Pouncing between right and wrong but to his chagrin
Their number far outweighed him, afraid, I ran for life
Leaving him to perish beneath a moonless winter sky

Drumbeats, swelling, panting breaths, blurred lights swerved the street
Survival of the lowly, in debt to word and deed

Some say he’s a victim in the worst of times
To others a recidivist and punishment fit the crime
Arriving without question, he’s a hero long denied
Who carries justice in his heart even as he dies

Eight months of survival, guilt weighs on my mind
Criminals roam the jungle, valor’s in decline
Our cities lay in ruin and peril rues the day
Evil downed a forthright man while a coward ran away

Lurking in the shadows I cloak a mask of death
Appraising passersby for weakness, fear, unrest

Some say I’m a fallen angel Gabriel lionized
To others I’m the spirit of a savior canonized
Arriving with a vengeance to redeem a cardinal sin
I carry justice in my heart like a reborn Paladin

THE COLT

All my life I’d been a rider, all my life I’d known
The day would come when my skills would tame the Untamed Colt
It’s not a matter of derision, fear nor arrogance
Rather a clash of will and fate which affords no second chance

Past conquered mares and broken fillies I rode tall in the saddle
Like a warrior of the reins heading out to battle
My abilities had reached fruition and their destiny
Led a trailhorse to the Cliffs of Tempestuity

I searched the fields of fury, nearly chose to leave
When like a roll of thunder blazed a swift and graceful beast

Strong and proud and fortified, eyes as black as pitch
Muscled quarters woven with a tailor’s seamless stitch
A mane which shines by design should the moon be whole
This untamed blend of quintessence could only be The Colt

I stood in awe as he faded with the August night
Catching my breath like a child awoken with a fright
Broken, have I, hearts of stone and wills of tempered steel
But none compared to the bastion The Colt would soon reveal

I spent the morning hours tracking hoof prints to the cliffs
Where far below spread a lake of purity and depth

Wide and cool and sanctified, color clear as day
Jutting ridges hanging like a gallows guilty prey
A grassy knoll high in the sky, fresh as a newborn foal
This untamed land of quintessence could only be The Colt’s

Alone I faced The Colt with the tools of trade in hand
A breaker’s pride, a rider’s heart, the will which fills a man
In a flash my whip had slashed a crimson stripe of hide
And In return the horse’s charge sent me through the sky

I landed hard then quickly sank with a tender memory
For though I called myself a rider I’d never swam the sea

Tall and true and radiant, her skin a golden hue
Chiseled features sculpted with a craftsman’s polished tool
A mane aflow as if it knows the stream of southern skies
This untamed heart of quintessence left me without a bride

A cowboy never looks behind when riding at a canter
Nor does he waste his timbre should sorrow fill his banter
Dead to rights I lost my love, away the course she set
Not unlike the horse whose pain I now regret

I set my sins in order, my conscience was appeased
When like a ball of thunder crashed the brave and selfless beast

Strong and proud and fortified, eyes as soft as love
Muscled quarters sweeping me to the nearest bluff
A mane which strained to retain a rider’s timid hold
In quintessential repentance I’d been saved by The Colt

When I awoke I found my savior next to me
Kneeling like a trailhorse weighed with saddlebags of feed
Yielding trust I mounted, he shot off like a flare
Kicking dust as if his instinct sought a distant mare

Upon the horse I rode the fields, the cliffs, the gentle sands
Rushing through the forest with The Colt at my command

Wide and cool and sanctified, the peace of days to come
Jutting ridges hanging for a wild streak now undone
A grassy knoll high in the sky with fences built to hold
In quintessential victory I left a broken colt

My claim secure to The Colt’s untamed legacy
I led my trailhorse from the Cliff’s Of Tempestuity
But once home I realized failure ruled my course
For like a tin horn I had no clue of how to break a horse

My love returned and like the Untamed Colt I planned her capture
But she seduced my rider’s pride and set me out to pasture

Tall and true and radiant, her skin a weathered brown
Chiseled features made complete by a smile which never frowns
A mane aflow as if it knows desire held inside
This quintessential innocent agreed to be my bride

All my life I’d been a rider and this I surely know
A cowboy hasn’t skill to break a maiden nor a colt
For when I looked to see the things I had tamed inside her
I realized the horse had forever tamed the rider

Out of the west The Colt did stroll then knelt before my bride
To his back I lifted her then upon him gently climbed

Strong and proud and fortified, eyes like dark medallions
Muscled quarters straining like a quintessential stallion
As sunset dipped below the cliffs we approached the grassy knoll
Where a rider and his maiden would raise the Untamed Colt

– James Grayford