"THE RIDER"


  He'll ride In the morning, through the day travels 
  The road,

  High upon the hills, a shadow beneath the clouds, 
  He rides.

  Into the wind, the rain blowing against his face, he 
  Rides,

 The snow falls, as through the mountain passes he Is
  Moving.

  A man with no name, throughout the land, maybe a 
  Glimpse,

 He's known only as the rider, carrying whatever for hire.


 This horse he rides, with colors of solid black and white 
  Spots,

  A demon creature, wicked with speed like the wind.


  Brown and black hat worn on his head, gives a
  Mysterious appearance,

  A coat so long for cover and warmth, shields him from
   Weather, the rider.

  Boots on his feet of dark, broken In pattern, can be 
  Noticed In the stirrups,

 This man of the land rides and rides, just he and his 
  Faithful Companion.

  Like a ghost so quiet, he roams the wild wilderness of life,


  He's known as the rider, Into the night he rides.


                               Keith Garrett