My Love Arrived On Horseback
A poem
My Love Arrived on Horseback
In a world of Mustangs, Mavericks and Pintos, (also known as Fords), and motorcycles sometimes cooly called “my horse,” I thought it strange that he, my tall, blonde, smiling cowboy type, would arrive at my house on horseback.
He was backlit by the moon. The clop-clopping on the country road where I lived sounded familiar but odd. He was so tall up there. He smiled down at me and said, “Come on, let’s go.”
My love arrived on horseback.
Why do I recount such a tale? It lies in a distant past, like a photograph, black and white, now faded. But there was movement then. I can see myself walking toward the beast, as if in an ancient fable, like Robin Hood, or King Arthur. Extending my arm, the air was warm, the moon full. He pulled me up with ease.
My love arrived on horseback.
The horse obeyed his master. Down the darkened hill we trotted. I held on tight, could feel my warm companion smiling. Turning into an open field, the horse was given wide berth and free rein. We galloped across the moony meadow, hair blowing across my eyes and mouth. Breathless and not-knowing, clinging fiercely, excited, unnerved, not exactly enjoying the ride.
I enjoy it much more now. Time is a swirl of magical ingredients, a batter with brown sugar, chocolate, butter, cream. Once separate, now gently folded, keep stirring, it blends into taste, light and powerful, exotic and sweet, baking over time. Like the moon, the horse, the night, his smile at my surprise.
My love arrived on horseback.
Love this (on so many levels)!