Wrangler Jay
By Jenna Frye 
My little Wrangler
My first-born son.
I long to hold you
My heart aches at the thought.
The shattered dreams
Only you, little one, could fulfill,
I pictured you, in my mind,
As a baby, Daddy’s beautiful boy.
As a toddler, Daddy’s buddy.
As a preschooler, Daddy’s helper.
You and Daddy would have been one,
Like father, like son.
I dreamed of the day you’d
Ride your first horse
Rope your first steer,
Daddy would have taught you, ya know,
You’d have been big and strong
Like Daddy.
He loved you little guy, sight unseen.
He loved you so much,
He let you go.

But…they say there’s hope.
They say we’ll meet again.
Will it be on streets of gold?
Or at the pearly gates?

I choose to think it’ll be in an arena
Made of old hedge posts.
On which are strung, strings of pearls.

…You’ll rope someday, Honey.
…You’ll heel for Daddy.

I love you, Son