Bought at a yard sale in 92 <br />Most of the time I’ve nothin to do <br />But just sit around the old porch and wait <br />For someone to call me old paint <br />Upon my old frame you’ll find no horse ride <br />For distance and travel you’ll find I’m no ride <br />I’m just made of wood and the distance I go <br />Is confined to rockers that move to and fro <br />So I just sit and wait <br />By no special gate <br />For the next little person to ride <br />Just a bit lonely and sad inside <br />And when they jump on there’s a grin on my face <br />For the journey we go will take us someplace <br />It may not be far or ev’n a race <br />But we’ll have some fun my young rider and I <br />Riding along under purple sky <br />And when we get back and our trip is all over <br />I’ll just sit and wait for the next little rover <br />By, Les Bennett --from South Portland, Maine <br /> <br />8/23/06<br /><br />Dave Tanguay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rocking-horse-poem/
