Old Roy

He was a flea bitten gray with white mane and tail,
Weighed about nine fifty and free as a gale
He was the best horse that I ever rode
Whether working cattle or riding down the road.

He was work horse when I started working on the Ranch.
He was seven years old and, boy, could he run and prance!
I asked, "Could I ride Him? He looks like saddle stock to me."
The boss said "Go right ahead. It's all right with me."

Old Roy was so gentle with those great big, soft brown eyes.
For a little horse he was muscled, good muscles on his thighs.
He had good withers on his back, just right to fit my old rack.
He never was foolish, for speed just give him a little slack.

He was my best mount, for about eight years or so.
Then the Boss sold the Ranch out -- how I hated to see him go.
I sure wanted to by him, but now he was getting old.
I was short on money, so I wiped the tears and let him go.

If there's horses in Heaven, Old Roy will sure be there.
I've rode a lot of horses since, but none can near compare.
Fifty years ago they sold him, no other could take his place.
He was the greatest horse, the best of the Equestrian race.

by Marvin Carnagey

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