My Love for Horses started early

My Father's Horse 

by Glenda Council Beall

Stickers tear my legs, bare and tan 

from summer sun. Long black braids 

fly behind me as I sprint like a Derby winner 

down the path. 

Harnessed with hames, bridle and blinders, 

Charlie plods along the farm road. 

Tired and wet with sweat, he is perfume 

to my nostrils. My father swings me up. 

I bury my hands in tangled mane. 

My thighs stick to leather 

and damp white hair 

high above the ground.

I want to sing in glorious joy, 

but only croon a child's nonsensical 

tune, grinning for a hundred yards 

between field and barn. 

 My father's arms are strong.

His hands are gentle. 

The horse is all we ever share. 

For he has sons, and I am just a daughter.

FATHER'S DAY

My father, Coy Lee Council, must have been a handsome man in his youth with his dark hair and blue eyes. I've heard the stories of his sense of humor and his charm. He was born in 1900 on a farm in north Florida. He persevered during hard times with a strong work ethic learned from his Mother. Like many men of his generation, he provided for the family and left the nurturing to my mother. I've written a couple of poems about him. One is "My Father's Horse" and another is simply called "A Farmer and His dog."
He left an impact on my life and the lives of all his children. Daddy was a simple man in many ways but complex in his thinking.
I never enjoyed Father's Day and I don't think he did either. He didn't like to be fussed over, and I could never find an appropriate gift. I wrote a poem for him trying to express my feelings for this man who was distant, cold but kind. I heard from Mother that he read it, and he liked it, but he never mentioned it to me.