Miss Lightning
by Dave Rhodes
Riding Miss Lightning is like riding the wind,
Flying fast over the Pony Express trail.
No other horse has her stamina or speed,
No other horse that carries the mail.
She makes the run to
It's a seventy-five mile ride round trip.
That doesn't slow Miss Lightning down at all,
Just give her the reins and forget the whip.
The mustang blood runs hot in her veins,
And out on the course she makes a change
To the wild and free horse she used to be,
Roaming the cedar hills and grassy range.
If you're on top you better be savvy
To her quick moves as she burns up the road,
For she only cares what is up ahead,
Not aware of the saddle, rider or load.
When she's not running she's not at rest,
You can see that wild look in her eye
When sometimes she gets a smell of the sage
And you know that she is ready to fly.
She's famous as far as horses go,
And us humans use her like a tool.
We think what a great service she gives
But, if you feel that's true you're a fool.
The truth is ‘tis the other way around,
The one who's fulfilling the need is you.
Miss Lightning runs as fast as the wind
Only ‘cause that's what she's born to do.
©David E. Rhodes 1998