Dreaming My Trusted Steed.

I crunch crunch crunch through desert sand    
or explored wild exotic shores,    
skipped up Gran's drive, hand in hand,    
conjuring roars of Great Dinosaurs    
in Gran's garden to her door    
which I magic'd to a Castle's Keep,   
or teepee for us red-injun squaws    
and my mind, was, my trusted steed.    
   
I flew with Blèriot from France    
shared Orville's delight as he soared    
up, up, from Kitty Hawk, Oh, grand    
this, long before I'd heard or saw    
an aeroplane just book-read lore    
informed my imaginative needs    
those childhood days I still explore,    
and my mind, still, my trusty steed.    
   
I fly now, to alien lands,    
as hitchhiker on Rocket Roars,    
and hope to see these space ships manned    
as of yore, when birch craft were oared    
by scouts through virgin lands, such awe,  
those stone-age man feeding their needs    
as I go with these space-age scouts, more,    
I go on my mind's trusted steed.    
   
I shall mine small nuggets of ore    
to gather words of which I need,    
throughout the world's bountiful store    
traveling on my mind's, trusted steed.