PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Walking
Quickly down the steps.
Calling to mom and grandma,
Saying, ‘come one! Hurry up!’
Them responding ‘just a minute!’
Bouncing impatiently in place.
They finally descend the stairs,
Seemed to me that they were angels,
Descending from heaven.
Stepping slowly, breaking twigs.
Crack, Crack, Snap went the twigs.

Seeing the stables I grab Mom’s hand
Pulling her along.
A man and woman greet us.
Asking our ages,
Weight,
And some other stuff I didn’t care to remember.
Mom tells them and pays,
I jump excitedly,
Up,
And down.

Then they bring out two horses,
I stare at them,
Pretty much star struck.
One is bigger then the other.
This is the one I get to ride.
I breathe in the smell of leather.
Poop,
And hay,
Not wincing,
Like my mother does.
I listen closely,
And I hear horses neighing,
Grunting,
And whinnying,
Mom thanks the man and woman,
And the woman hands me and my sister a helmet.
I put the helmet on,
So does my sister.
But… we both have it on backwards,
Mom laughs and bends down,
She turns the helmet around
And buckles it properly.
Grandma turns my sister’s helmet around,
Buckling it, like mom did for me.
The man adjusts the stirrups for my sister’s horse,
The woman adjusts mine.
Then mom picks me up,
And sets me on the saddle.
The man picks my sister up,
And places her on her saddle.
The woman hands mom the reigns
For the horse I’m riding.
The man hands Grandma the reigns
For the horse my sister is riding.
Mom pulls on the reigns,
The horse takes a step forward.
I grin widely,
And put my trust into the horse,
As Mom leads the horse out.
I hear the horse’s hoofs going
Clip-Clop, Clip-Clop as we move along.
I turn my head a little bit,
Making sure my Grandma,
And my Sister are able to move.
I hear their horse
Clip-Clop, Clip-Clopping behind us.
I turn my head back around,
Smiling softly,
Relaxing,
And enjoying the ride.