Tag Archives: poems

when I am an old cowgirl

I shall wear diamonds
And a wide-brimmed straw hat
With silver and leather on it …

and I shall spend my social security
On white wine and carrots
And sit in the alley of my barn
And listen to my horses breathe.

I will sneak out in the middle of a summers’ night
And ride the chestnut mare
Across the moonstruck meadow.
If my old bones will allow.
When people come to call I will smile and nod
As I walk them past the gardens to the barn
And show, instead, the beauty growing there
In stalls fresh-lined with straw.

I will shovel and sweat and
Wear hay in my hair as if it were a jewel.
And I will be an embarrassment to all
Who look down on me.
They’ve not yet found the peace in being free
To love a horse as a friend,
A friend who waits at midnight hour
With nuzzle and nicker and patient eyes
For the kind of woman I will be,
When I am old.

Old Cowgirl by Patty Barnhart
Originally published in The Arabian Horse World magazine in 1992.

Finding Home

I found a poem that Mom and I wrote a few years ago.


Home isn’t just a place or a location.

It’s a feeling, a memory, a sound, sometimes a smell.

It can be someone you know …

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Zephyr. Bad gas? Distant cousin to sulphur? How about something related to dinosaurs? The big toe of a brontosaurus? Louis L’Amour sidekick?

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