Urban Rancher Publishing

The Mummy
  There were also the memories which, in looking back, were quite humorous, but at the time didn't seem to be. The Urban Rancher was a city kid, even though it was a small town, and his few contacts with horses had not been very positive! So, he had no idea of what he was getting into when he agreed to go for a ride . . .

Poems

The Urban Rancher
My Bike
Childhood's Maze
It's Almost Too Late
Little Brother
Floppy-Eared Dog
Only in Estes
Midlife
Death of an Old Friend
Flowers
The Mirror
McGraw Ranch
The Breakfast Ride
The Steak Fry
The Old Cowboy
The Mummy
The Ride
The Character
Our Steeds
The Garden
The Honeymoon Night
The Perfume
The Last Ranch
Patterns
Our Reunion
Where Are You Now?
The Forties
Mortality
Co-Dependents
Make Some Memories
Reflections
The High Country
How Can We Help?
Skybear
One of Those Days
The Vultures
Looking Backwards

We visited her parents at the home ranch one time,
And she batted her eyes up at me.
"Let's go for a ride, on horses of course,
A small ride, just up on the Mummy."

Now, I was a tenderfoot, I didn't know better,
So I agreed in my innocent ways.
Before that day was over, I'd written it down
As one of my most horrible days.

We started off early, and headed up the meadow,
On up past the Bridal Veil Falls.
We kept on riding and climbing,
And we could hear the wild eagle's calls.

And I asked her, "Tell me, dear, just where is
This thing we're riding to, this Mummy?"
She answered, "Oh, that's the big range of mountains
Way up there -- that's just where we will be!"

Three hours later, we're at the top of the range,
My tender body is aching and sore.
We stop for lunch, thank God, when it's time to leave,
I don't know if I can stand very much more.

The weather has changed -- a storm's moving in,
The electricity's charging all around.
The horses are spooked, it's threatening near by,
It's time to get down to low ground.

A great herd of elk, about four hundred or so,
Move ahead of us down off the top.
The weather's turned bad, we head along back home,
With much speed and with nary a stop.

We're cold and weary as we come up to the ranch,
And I get off to open the gate.
My knees are so sore, I can't get back on my horse,
I'm almost done in, and we're running so late.

I crawled up the stairs, and collapsed on the bed,
And I thought: "This is supposed to be fun?"
Next time I contemplate a "little ride" with my wife,
Just put me out of my misery with a gun!

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Urban Rancher Publishing, PO Box 3946,
Estes Park CO 80517-3946 USA
Orders: 970-586-2743, Fax: 970-586-6249
E-mail: urbanrch@frii.com


Copyright (c) 2006 Urban Rancher Publishing, Revised 27 November 2006

 

 

 

 

           

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