Your Favorite Horse

By Ken Hanson

Pleasing you pleases me,
That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,
It’s been that way a very long time,
Ever since my world was still brand new.

Your favorite horse, that’s what you call me,
I work real hard to deserve that name,
It goes without saying you’re my favorite cowboy,
You can be sure that will always be the same.

Oh sure, when I was young I fought you real hard,
I thought I needed to be wild and free,
But you were determined to give me a chance,
You refused to give up on me.

You worked with me and calmed me down,
I finally began to see things your way,
We started to become quite a team,
One that continues to this very day.

I learned what you wanted from me,
You knew how to teach me with a gentle hand,
The skills I need for a cowboys job,
You whisper to me and I understand.

We’ve been together for many years now,
Perfecting the job we do as a team,
The other cowboys watch our moves,
A little envious it would seem.

Whether putting loose strays in a pen,
Or cutting steers from the herd,
It seems like I can feel your thoughts,
We do the job without a single word.

When we’re working our minds are one,
I know what you want before you do,
The touch of a spur, the flick of a rein,
A slight shift in the saddle by you.

I dodge and you lean into the turn,
Perfectly balanced like we’re connected,
Other cowboys hang on the top rail,
To watch the moves we have perfected.

I can feel your weight upon my back,
But it doesn’t slow me down at all,
At least until that fateful day,
I stepped in a hole and took a fall.

You weren’t hurt but I broke my leg,
I thought you were going to put me down,
I could see the worry in your eyes,
First time I’ve ever seen you frown.

The vet set my leg, put it in a cast,
Said it wasn’t that bad after all,
First time in my life that I can’t work,
All I can do is hobble around this stall,

You feed me every day to keep me alive,
Fresh water, oats, and sweet hay too,
But this isn’t what I call living,
I want to come back to work with you.

The job we did gave me purpose,
I miss it more than you’ll ever know,
Our teamwork means more than life itself,
I wish that I could tell you so.

The days go by, I’m slowly getting better,
But I see you working with a younger horse,
It breaks my heart but I understand,
A cowboys work must continue of course.

It’s been a year now, I’m out in the pasture,
I still can’t run no matter how hard I try,
Some days I get so lonely,
I just want to lay down and die.

Something happened today I didn’t expect,
You brought your grandson to the pasture to see me,
He was so little you carried him in your arms,
He must have been about two or three.

He was scared at first, but you talked to him,
He settled down and overcame his fear,
You held him up and I walked around slowly,
He held my mane tightly and laughed in my ear.

The fact that you trust me with this precious child,
Makes my heart swell with pride,
It’s been a long time since I felt useful,
It feels like it just might burst inside.

You bring him to ride me when he comes for a visit,
It gives me something to look forward to,
He’s my little cowboy and I’m his horsey,
You’re still my favorite but he might replace you.

That little cowboy has lassoed my heart,
That’s way better than being wild and free,
There are other horses he could choose to ride,
But he only wants to ride me.

The years have passed, he’s growing like a weed,
Big enough to ride me on his own now,
I can run, but not good enough to work,
That doesn’t matter anymore anyhow.

I have a new job now with my little cowboy,
That’s better than chasing steers of course,
Although we’ll never work together again,
I hope I’ll always be your favorite horse.

It’s The Reason We’re All Here ...

By Ken Hanson
Note: I was inspired to write this poem by the galvanized steel horse-trough the Palo Duro Cowboy Church in Canyon, Texas uses for baptisms.

Some are made of marble or granite,
Spare no expense, the best of the best,
Impressive to see, to say the least,
Strictly first class compared to the rest.

Some are made of sculptured concrete,
Functional and attractive, as well,
Probably surrounded by flowers or plants,
They serve their need, that you can tell.

Some are made of more modest materials,
I can see one from where I stand,
Made of galvanized metal, simple and plain,
It’s right over there next to the band.

Baptistries range from humble to majestic,
But they all do the very same thing,
It’s the final step to being born again,
It lets the people know your life has changed.

Whether marble, granite, concrete, or metal,
They have nothing whatsoever to do,
With the salvation you have chosen to receive,
That’s a relationship between Christ and you.

That metal tank that’s full of water,
Isn’t there for your horse,
It’s for the rest of us to witness your decision,
It’s a symbol of your salvation of course.

When you make the decision to follow Jesus,
The water washes away your sin,
You rise as Christ did on that third day,
Your life begins anew and you are born again.

That humble metal tank would look out of place,
In a gothic cathedral I fear,
But likewise that giant marble lap pool,
Wouldn’t fit in here.

A church will find what works for them,
No two congregations are the same,
Some might require that they have the best,
Others prefer something a little more tame.

That giant chunk of a granite mountain,
Rising up behind a large choir,
Complements the stained glass and organ pipes,
Something a wealthy congregation can admire.

The thousands of gallons in that big pool,
Can’t baptize any better than a horse trough can,
A couple of feet is more than enough,
For any woman, child, or man.

God doesn’t care how much water there is,
A few drops would wash away your sin,
It only matters what’s in your heart,
And where you’re going, not where you’ve been.

I’m sure Jesus wouldn’t mind,
Someone baptized in whatever could be found,
A water trough was surely in the manger of his birth,
After all, there were animals all around.

That simple little metal tank,
Is something in a cowboy’s world every day,
He knows it’s as good as an ocean,
At washing sin away.

When someone is baptized during a service,
The whole church will rejoice on that special day,
It lets the pastor know he’s done a good job,
Kinda like a little bonus in your pay.

When we see someone rise from the water,
We all praise God and cheer,
Helping someone become a new Christian,
Is the reason we’re all here.