Where The Fallen Timbers Grow

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Got a call from my best friend Sandy Mills this morning that one of our dear friends and riding compadres Wayne Mears passed away yesterday after a long battle with cancer. It reminded me of a conversation we had deep in the woods one fall day as we marveled at the giant trees fallen down in a gorge. And how their remnants were now the home to so much new life. I sat down this morning remembering Wayne and all the friends that have gone on ahead….leaving only that fallen timber that was the mark of their life for the next ones to build upon….God speed my friend….pick out a good one to saddle when you get to the next place. PT

Where The Fallen Timbers Grow

There’s a place deep in the woods
Nearly every horseman knows
Warm light bends through the trees
Where great fallen timber grows

In the quiet morning trails
Where nature comes to play
As the light breaks bold anew
And we start a brand new day

In this cold sweet frosty air
As life’s cycle starts again
You can hear it’s gentle hum
As great trees begin to bend

Like the guardians of time
They stand to mark this place
Then they fall in silent night
Making room amid the space

All these rings that marked their life
Lie like tombstones in the grass
And the new grows on their backs
As the the next group comes to pass

Their sweet stories old as time
And a song for us to share
In the stillness of the woods
As we pass their places there

For in life there comes a time
When the new comes bold to show
And we measure out the last
Where great fallen timbers grow

PT Muldoon ©2017

 

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First

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First

Somewhere in distant memory
Was that first special ride
Captured by a photograph
With Mom close by your side

Maybe it was Dad or Gramps
That gave you your first try
Saddled up a good old mount
Then blaze cross western sky

It doesn’t really matter much
Just comes down to one horse
First wind to split a pony’s ears
And set your sails on course

There’s many special people
That help give kid’s a chance
Set them tall on leather throne
As they join us for that dance

Later on as growing’s done
And time has slipped on by
The memory of that first ride
Across sweet summer’s sky

PT Muldoon
©2017

McKenna’s Magic

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One of my friend’s daughter McKenna is the Drum Major for the University of Michigan. My friend Penny Neer herself a former Olympian and Hall of Fame Discus thrower for Michigan’s Women’s Track Team made time for both myself and my niece to meet Mckenna and the entire band at the last home football game this year. In the middle of all the buzz of a home game this awesome young woman took the time from a busy schedule to make a lasting memory for a kid that truly loves Michigan….Guess that sums up the kind of ambassador she is!!! Penny shared this awesome pic with me of the mace Mckenna carries….it’s wicked cool and I felt like penning some words to accompany it. Hope you like it….Thanks McKenna!!! PT

McKenna’s Magic Mace

Upon this field great battles won
Where youth made prep a task to do
To dance and play neath Mitten sun
As came one wave of Maize and Blue

I saw McKenna lead this drive
In full attire on summer’s flame
She kept bold spirits here alive
To lead our team to win the game

This ballet danced midst music true
They helped the fans join in the fight
Marching soldiers…. Maize and Blue
Did share sweet victory with delight

Tradition gained through fight and try
The honor built shown on their face
To mark bold visions cross this sky
And lead the band with Magic Mace

PT Muldoon  ©2017

Valhalla Trail

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I wrote this one especially for my friend Andy Cohen….we lost him last year to brain cancer but in true warrior poet fashion he left us all with his mad skills and bold sense of humor and a sense that his spirit will live on until we meet again in Valhalla a better place….fit for warriors and dreamers. Hope you like it….Love You Brother!!!PT

Valhalla Trail

When I was a young man I stood in the shadows
Of men who were legends their rides built with fire
And wheelin together on trails from forever
They taught us to matter this tribe of tall tire

The craftsmen and painters and builders of vision
Took time to find greatness and then share their skills
And the void they were fillin in young kids still dreaming
Is the stuff made of legend and carved in these hills

We toasted the good ones and sorted out posers
We wheeled in the moonlight on stairs to the sky
In lifted up wranglers beside gadget new fanglers
We all learned together to build on our try

And now that they’re leaving we’re just left with our grieving
As the Vikings of off road set sail
And there in the distance we watch them grow smaller
As their rigs head off slowly up Valhalla trail
PT Muldoon  © 2017

Unbranded

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Unbranded

Beats like the rhythm of song
Only one sound it’s his heart
Piercing the silence mid ride
Promise made true at the start

Chiseled bold lines of his veins
Poised as great journeys begin
Coursing these tides on his way
Mapped out deep rivers within

Every man rides his own trail
Some never see morning light
Broken by things still unseen
Souls set adrift in mid flight

All that is held true within you
Free riding hard on wild lands
Hoping to hold that sweet line
Safe within angels warm hands

The reminder of promises made
Inked through his arm in a cross
Of friends left behind on the ride
Stained in the tears of their loss

Out on the edge of life’s border
Fleeing the fears yet unspoken
Seeking a light in this darkness
Unbranded unbridled unbroken

PT Muldoon © 2017