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?