heel kicking horses

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    heel kicking horses, frolicking with fun,
    loosed from dark stables and into the sun,
    clockwise and anti, riotous they run.

    womanly-waving long shaggy manes,
    free spirits sing, unshackled from chains,
    soon they’ll be saddled, bridled and reined.

    a few broken sheds, no sheik sponsored stud,
    multiple hoof imprints on much messed mud,
    my spirit soars when i hear their hooves thud.

    I spoke with their groom, he wore a cloth cap,
    he explained each one, he was a nice chap;
    God smiled from sky, gave a loud clap.

    once I rode ponies, from Shetland I think,
    black helmet, jodhpurs beige not pink;
    thrown before jump, she didn’t even blink!

    I valued life and limb, got up slightly shaking,
    I’m no gambler, no bets would I be staking –
    quickly I quit, no horseman in making.

    still – every August, off faithfully I go,
    hundreds of horses in the annual show –
    is that gelding, or mare – how would i know?

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