High: 73°F ~ Low: 27°F
Sunday, Mar. 9, 2014
Night FlightPosted Thursday, January 20, 2011, at 9:48 PM
I couldn't fly like the Eagle, but I truly, truly, tried, But some how chubby boy, can't fly like Eagle, unless he lied. Eagles aren't afraid of cows, so I'm relegated to sneeky Sparrow, But even sparrow, knows how to fly just like Eagle called Straight Arrow.
By Arley Steinhour 012011
Once upon a time ago, many years have passed,
As a child, country bred, I lived my life so fast.
Up, with the sun, and on the run, just as soon as I had breakfast,
Out the door, and never more return, except to break my fast.
Dinner not much different, except coming home, we eat, and stay,
As after dinner was Radio time, entertainment came that way.
This is not about any of that, but more what happened in my bed,
Sound asleep I traveled, near and far, even though just in my head.
One of my favorite things to do, while I slept right through the night,
Was to run outside, where my soul did live, look up, and take to flight.
Flight, I said, though in my head, my joy was quite complete,
Over trees, around the bend, flying up and down the street.
Heights frightened me a little bit, so I stayed below a thousand feet,
But zipping along, and singing a song, filled my flying heart complete.
Joy of soul, I felt up there, almost, most of the time,
But once in a while, I couldn't smile, cattle came to mind.
At times, I'd be out on the street, and stampede would come at me,
Some how, some way, I couldn't fly, not the normal way, you see.
The cattle herd came bearing down, snorting with blood in eye,
And if I hadn't been a big boy of seven, I might decide to cry.
Escape to life, or stand and die, my brain cried, as they filled the street,
Too late to get self to the gate, down street backwards, or meet defeat.
Scared to death, I couldn't run, except to back-up on my feet,
So, backward did my body go, faster and faster from nostril heat;
When son of a gun, I lifted off, and like climbing stairs, they passed below,
I stop my movement, and hang in air, and watch the cattle, down street go.
When coast is clear, I walked forward again, an downward I did go,
Until I reached solid ground, and I could go back to bed, you know?
The nights that cattle charged at me, reduced my will to fly,
But one or two days later, I was a new, and a brave young guy.
So out I go, after falling asleep, to meet the sparkling sky,
To live another night with God, as in His sky, this boy did Fly.
Praise & Poetry
- Blog RSS feed
- Comments RSS feed
- Send email to Arley Steinhour