A Cowgirl Wannabe.

I really felt sad immediately 
after he cattle drive went by from downtown to the fair.

I love horses, I love riding.

I was more excited than my granddaughter.

But of course, she's very young.

During the drive, I dreamily pictured myself on horseback, 
a dressed up me on a gentle horse,
keeping him steady and straight,
both of us concentrating, 
keeping up with the rodeo guys.

Smile to the people, sit up, ride your best!

The parade went by, horses, cattle, wagons, old cars.

Grins left and right of me, the viewers were delighted.


We took the baby home.
I smiled on the drive home,
until my face hurt.

Almost there, 
a heaviness heaved 

into my belly, and my throat hurt.
I would never be a cowgirl, I knew that.
I probably won't ride in a parade.

I've had lessons for years,

and gone trail riding,
and participated in a local show.
I wore long black jeans, a cowgirl hat and shirt,

my good boots, sat up straight on my

trainer's saddle, saddle pad, and horse.

Came home with three ribbons, red, yellow and blue!
Blue?! I was the best in those amateur classes.

This day, after the parade, my heart sunk,

Not a cowgirl will I ever be, 
a wannabe-cowgirl,
watching from the sidewalk.


I will ride again,
in an arena,
encouraged by my trainer,
achieving more skill.

But by choice, I won't be a cowgirl.

And I know the reasons why.
Time, money, and hard work is required.

Back to reality, that's OK,

Alright, really it does hurt to know.
But maybe I'll go on a trail ride soon.
I love horseback riding.