I am creative with a sense of humor thrown in

I wonderwhen I will ever again sit atop my riding school horse Slim

I hear the sound of hoofbeats tapping along the soft ground

I see horse's ears pricking at every source of sound

I want those memories to come alive again

I am creative with a sense of humor thrown in

I pretend I'm back in the saddle, reins in hand

I feel the horse's movements as he trots across the arena sand

I touch the horse's silky mane

I worry that I won't go back, anytime soon, to the ranch with the soaring name

I cry silently because I miss my riding school friends, and the horses, too

I am creative with a sense of humor thrown in

I understand I can't go back yet

I say, "I wish I could ride today, before the sun sets."

I dream about the smells and sounds of Wings of Eagles

I try to bear the waiting, but the thought tags along like a begging young beagle

I am creative with a sense of humor thrown in