Across the open prairie,
The man rode his tireless horse,
Bareback, without a saddle,
Like real men did, of course.
He called his horse, "Nebraska,"
A rugged sounding name,
It matched the land he traveled,
The untamed, midwestern plains.
Loyal to the core, and smart,
Nebraska followed all commands,
Acting often in advance,
Before orders issued from the man.
Their close relationship developed
Over time, with mutual trust,
Each depending on the other,
While riding through the brush.
A man! A horse! An open field!
And clean, untainted air!
How or who dare ask for more,
Boundless joy everywhere.
Winds stirred up Nebraska's mane,
And ruffled through the rider's hair,
"YEE HAW!" the man declared.
Dogies crying in the distance,
Black crows cawing overhead,
White clouds lolling in the heavens,
As man and horse pushed on ahead.
Nebraska shied away from rattlers,
And from coyotes, stayed down-wind,
Though man and horse were both aware
That they could handle them.
In the humid heat of summer,
They sometimes stopped to rest,
And they drank refreshing water
From creeks, as nature's guests.
From sun-up until sun-down,
Nebraska and the man,
Roamed the land with pleasure,
As true companions can.
Then as twilight came upon them,
And the sun sank slowly in the west,
Bone tired, man and horse
Sought out a place to rest.
From a distance came a voice,
"Hurry up, my little man,
Your beddy-bye is waiting,
Time for sleep, my precious lamb."
The boy jumped off his rocking horse
And headed for his bed,
"Good night! Thleep tight, Nebrathka,"
Then he kissed his horsie's head.
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright April 2002 ~ Revised April 2005