Habits of Happiness
Written & Contributed
When tomorrow never
And I could no more comb your mane;
No longer could I brush your hair,
Or pick your feet - for you weren't there.
No more Corona or fly
Or tacking up to ride the day -
No more to talk and walk and canter,
Or running walk and lively banter.
When our rides came to
And I lost you - dear faithful, friend;
You're not here to open gates -
So where you are, please for me wait.
"In Memory of Midnight Spirit of '76."