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May 2013
I got my horse her name is tilly,
what a rough rider my little filly,
when I give her lovin she tells me back with shovin,
when we start ridin I lead her to the side in,
Round bout the barrel swift like a carol,
when she starts racing I cant hear her pacing,
along with her feet i can feal the rythm and chase her to the beet
I'd never use a whip she lissons to my hip,
she can be craazy I gotta hold grip she can be lazy I gotta give her lip.
Fly over jumps streak through the creek,
Don't over run even when fun she'll feal weak and turn the other cheek.
Now were done I say she's number one,
end of our session we both learn a lesson,
head to the barn to untack give her  grain her favorite snack.
and brush her main cause I'm her master Take her back out to the pasture ,
with other horses
there all at play It's dinner time I'll get your hay.
Arrywill keepya smilin
Written by
Arrywill keepya smilin  Medford Oregon,
(Medford Oregon,)   
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