Okie, the Arab

Okie, The Arab

Okie is a cow horse.

Bless his old flea-bit hide.

And though he's pushing 20 years,

He'll still give you a good ride.

He's not above a game or two,
Touch-me-not is one he'll try.
But if you just flat ignore him,
He'll come to find out why.

He likes the wind and he likes to run,
With tail held proud and high,
And what a lovely picture he makes
Against the green field and blue sky.

For a handful of clover, you can bet,
He'll come with no pretense.
And then he will eat the sweet peas
That he can reach across the fence.

He'll swish his tail, stomp his feet,
And give you the evil eye.
But when you need to catch a calf,
He sure knows how to fly.

He'll work the drag or close a gate,
Or stand steady on a rope.
He'll give his all each time you ask,
Although he's old enough to vote.

He'll carry you to work each morning,
And work throughout the day.
He doesn't need praise or glory,
And he never asks for pay.

If you put a little kid on him,
He'll walk with careful feet.
But when a cowboy steps aboard,
He'd better find a seat.

Cause the old pony knows the difference,
Between a child and an adult,
So to treat him like a docile plug,
Would be a great insult.

If only he could tell us
About the work that he has done,
And all the folks that he has known,
And about the places where he's run.

Old Man, you deserve the very best,
Of comfort and of love,
Until the day you sprout your wings,
And fly to heaven above.

by Mary Yetter
February 17, 2000