Thursday, June 16, 2011

The Stick Horse Squadron of Prairie Town

THE STICK HORSE SQUADRON OF PRAIRIE TOWN

The Stick Horse Squadron of Prairie Town
Galloped through the hot tar streets
Not one young cavalryman wore a frown
While they charged a field of sugar beets

In their hands were cavalry swords
Forged from the limb of a willow tree
Carrying canteens of yellow gourds
Filled with water from a muddy stream

Their wide brimmed hats were yellow straw
Their blue tunics were make believe
Their mission was to uphold prairie law
Mother, apple pie, and the great American dream

The squadron rides in the morning ‘til noon
When a mother bugles a call to mess
Stick horses now change back to brooms
The cavalryman’s scarves back to the linen chest

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