when you ran the sweet air
and soft meadow grass of the plains
you breathed the fiery winds,
and the endless passion of open fields.
alone in your wilderness
your quivered for the freedom
of endless furlongs,
but deep in your mustang heart
you wished for a bridle of leather,
longed to be rode savagely,
to run the golden plains of your secret dreams
and made to bend to a higher will.
i found you on the open range,
wild, defiant, full of fire and power.
i ran you down, roped you,
bridled you, and saddled your wild heart.
and in your kicking defiance
i mounted you, bucking with rebellion
and with patient hand and iron will
i soothed your spirit, without dousing the fire,
and now you respond
to the black flaming hurt
of my silver spurs and stinging crop
that demands you stretch into a full gallop,
i savagely ride you till your frothing
and wet,
then used and spent,
i put you to pasture, my wild mustang
till i desire to ride you again.
