The girl was barely a pre-teen, when she came out that day.

With clothes quite a-rumple and a hair knot of hay.

At that age she had a dream,

To get on a horse and ride as a team

With an instructor, a lesson was scheduled this May.

After much persuasion, and a cry or two,

They said to her “Okay, but success is up to you!”

The family drove out to the farm,

They prayed to her would come no harm,

And that girl loved it through and through.

When she fell off the saddle, and onto the ground,

Instead of dirt, it was peace she found.

She climbed right back up,

Put her feet in the stirrups,

And rode up the hill in a bound.

She rode and rode and soon her skills became great.

Despite the doubts and the hate.

When she had the reins in her hands,

She felt that she could defeat many lands.

And this was her very well-known trait.

Though she had not yet grasped the win she had earned,

Very shortly the cancer returned.

She passed happy and calm,

Was sent away with a simple psalm.

And to many more rides in heaven she had.