Written by Dick Roberts
His eyes told the stories,
Up there in the mountains,
The old buckskin and dad.
The miles they travelled,
The creeks that they crossed.
Can never be counted,
Upon this old horse.
He was broad in the shoulders,
And quick in the step,
Not another would beat him,
In a walking contest.
He was honest and true,
What a great life they had,
The old yellow buckskin and dad.
Tally by name, but a tally not kept,
Of the miles he covered,
With the mates that dad met.
A feed he did love, but a feed he didn’t need
A doer they called him, this old steed.
But life has its ways of changing it all,
Dad was called early, to heavens door.
The old buckskin was ageing,
But he had one more job,
To carry his mate,
Back to the mountains they loved.
He started at a walk,
But quickly changed gate,
At gallop he released,
The Ashes of his mate.
But his step has now slowed,
He is weak at the knees,
Sore in the shoulders,
A job left to me.
As i called him up, just one last time,
Gave him a feed, I promised I’d be kind.
One simple needle, was all that remained.
The old buckskin and dad are together again.
Nelle's journey 