Pity the man with only one horse to ride
Who wakes each morning with the same old chores
Of feeding and grooming the same old mare.
Perhaps it’s the tired look of her
That makes me think;
I’ll leave her to graze in the field for a time,
And drag out the leathers that I stowed away
During those early days of training
I’ve had my eyes on that little grey Filly there
Prancing about in expectation
Of a trip far away from that old dusty barn
I’ll take her to field never imagined
And the fresh green grass.
We’ve not seen the last of our home,
and it’s familiar feed
We shall return again after we have stood
In that illusive stream of delicious water
And filled our bellies with sun drenched hay
Beyond our best experience……….