…”For Some Must Push and Some Must Pull as We Go Marching Up the Hill…”

#Walking & Rangering TREK by Heidi Robertson 6/30/2013

 

Handcart train twists and drops

Needle pointing parched hill tops

Seldom stop to port-o-pot

But for a moment I am not Rangering stop go stop

We’re chasing freedom

Finding answers

in elusive velvet antlers

Scouting.

 

Sagebrush reach with creepy claws

Breaking stride and natural laws

Tug and power prairie skirts

As I play keep away to what might work.

 

Lean away from churning dirt

Crane wondering

How sego lilies keep their shirts and aprons clean?

Must be a Don and Kathy cleaning thing.

 

Several lovely butterflies

flutter lashed soliloqueys

Fly through stuttering side-by-sides

Breezing, “Hello there…and Hi” to me,

The sick and lame.

 

Walkers, riders, all the same

Like to play an “eye spy” game

to pass the time, to clear their minds,

chasing moments and “Oh Johny ohs.”

 

We are No Child Left Behinding

Occasionally redefining double yellow lines

and who goes on ahead for fireworks.

 

I.V.s in Evanston flash first try

While I hang a “No ATV Sign”

Tied tight like a green bandana

That Mas and Pas plan to grab 

Your certain to get a water curtain

Share humble thoughts  

To ease the burden of Rocky Ridge

 

Plain as that: I Refuse to be lame

Not playing games

I must MOVE! That’s all.

I’ve something to prove and miles to lose

In this call to Romans 6:11.

 

But in spite of being built for this

Some people will alwuzzzz hisssss!

So…I insist on sun and being young.

Bring the fun! Let’s finish what’s begun.

 

I’m convinced some are just better suited…

for driving and riding constituted… NOT ME!

Gladly remain undisputed.

Why can’t they see my favor in making space?

 

Flip flop crew calls chow time.

They eat and greet themselves blind

Defining love and hate divinely

Unconsciously they cut off feet like briny carved roast beef

And then blame others for “diseases” called obeastity and dieabetes.

LARGELY seeking acceptance, peace…

much as priders keep outsiders.

Scream “Wait!” and then deny help.

 

So, I’m expressly sorry when you take offense

if I decline the cakes in lieu of do si dos,

and don’t propensify pie with forks in the road stories

I’ll be embracing others, mourning confection glories.

 

I love my greats and grands

Like some… don’t think I understand what names we bear

Instead mistake the brand for insult

How to go about turning hearts of children to parents

and the inverse….so we rehearse.

 

So much remains hoped on

Trail signs and tokens

in a language often spoken and seldom understood

For lack of faith

I too was silently testimonying in small ways

Paths to Champollion Lake

Simply to bread and broth.

 

They seek a spiritual experience every week,

a vision quest with every breath and verse they take.

They mean well…

Sweetly bent not broken in the effort

But will we all remember what it means?

Live in the present and stay clean?

 

Some souls find rest in resonating light

collecting brightly on a common microphone.

While here at home and on the range they Hash tag Jesus.

Cut, Paste. Sing praise…

To Pioneer children as they walk, and walk, and walk

Merrily on their way to some Death Valley

Awaiting white handkerchief receptions and celebrations

Calling all to walk the path of Jesus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Handcart train twists and drops

Needle pointing parched hill tops

Seldom stop to port-o-pot

But for a moment I am not Rangering stop go stop

We’re chasing freedom

Finding answers

in elusive velvet antlers

Scouting.

 

Sagebrush reach with creepy claws

Breaking stride and natural laws

Tug and power prairie skirts

As I play keep away to what might work.

 

Lean away from churning dirt

Crane wondering

How sego lilies keep their shirts and aprons clean?

Must be a Don and Kathy cleaning thing.

 

Several lovely butterflies

flutter lashed soliloqueys

Fly through stuttering side-by-sides

Breezing, “Hello there…and Hi” to me,

The sick and lame.

 

Walkers, riders, all the same

Like to play an “eye spy” game

to pass the time, to clear their minds,

chasing moments and “Oh Johny ohs.”

 

We are No Child Left Behinding

Occasionally redefining double yellow lines

and who goes on ahead for fireworks.

 

I.V.s in Evanston flash first try

While I hang a “No ATV Sign”

Tied tight like a green bandana

That Mas and Pas plan to grab 

Your certain to get a water curtain

Share humble thoughts  

To ease the burden of Rocky Ridge

 

Plain as that: I Refuse to be lame

Not playing games

I must MOVE! That’s all.

I’ve something to prove and miles to lose

In this call to Romans 6:11.

 

But in spite of being built for this

Some people will alwuzzzz hisssss!

So…I insist on sun and being young.

Bring the fun! Let’s finish what’s begun.

 

I’m convinced some are just better suited…

for driving and riding constituted… NOT ME!

Gladly remain undisputed.

Why can’t they see my favor in making space?

 

Flip flop crew calls chow time.

They eat and greet themselves blind

Defining love and hate divinely

Unconsciously they cut off feet like briny carved roast beef

And then blame others for “diseases” called obeastity and dieabetes.

LARGELY seeking acceptance, peace…

much as priders keep outsiders.

Scream “Wait!” and then deny help.

 

So, I’m expressly sorry when you take offense

if I decline the cakes in lieu of do si dos,

and don’t propensify pie with forks in the road stories

I’ll be embracing others, mourning confection glories.

 

I love my greats and grands

Like some… don’t think I understand what names we bear

Instead mistake the brand for insult

How to go about turning hearts of children to parents

and the inverse….so we rehearse.

 

So much remains hoped on

Trail signs and tokens

in a language often spoken and seldom understood

For lack of faith

I too was silently testimonying in small ways

Paths to Champollion Lake

Simply to bread and broth.

 

They seek a spiritual experience every week,

a vision quest with every breath and verse they take.

They mean well…

Sweetly bent not broken in the effort

But will we all remember what it means?

Live in the present and stay clean?

 

Some souls find rest in resonating light

collecting brightly on a common microphone.

While here at home and on the range they Hash tag Jesus.

Cut, Paste. Sing praise…

To Pioneer children as they walk, and walk, and walk

Merrily on their way to some Death Valley

Awaiting white handkerchief receptions and celebrations

Calling all to walk the path of Jesus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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