For Jackie
When she was young
On a white stallion she would run
Then she saw the black
And thought for awhile
The run on him did make her smile
I, m going to get away
She thought on the black
Six guns roaring
In a desert storm
The black it did run
Splendor was his form
Into the sun he ran
Now she runs night and day
Some see her
So they say.
poem by John Shea
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
