There's no such day as Sunday to laze around the fire, There's no holiday at Christmas with Shetland or a Shire, At Easter we're so busy with the sizes in between, And every day there's feeding or keeping stables clean. And as for holidays abroad that's something just absurd. We could jet our way around the world if we didn't have the horses, 'You horsey people are quite mad', I hear from many sources. No lunch in town, followed by a shopping spree, But cheese on toast, made in haste for you and me. But those who never rise at dawn to hear that friendly neigh, Nor ride across the emerald turf upon a Summer day, Will never share the joy on the day a foal is born, Nor experience the thrill of the First String out at dawn. Our protegees we watch until the time of their first show, Perhaps we are just slightly made but they will never know, The smell of hay, a stable warm, a friend at rest and play, Perchance to dream and fall in love with chestnut, black or bay.
This is one of my favourite poems, written by Mary Lascelles, that I thought would be nice to share. It nicely sums up some of the reasons I love horses and the companionship they provide. I miss 'my' bitchy, chestnut mare. I hope she's raising hell still!
If anyone's interested in poetry, I have some poems I can submit (written by me) here. I was planning to put them on Deviant Art but I know that not everyone has a DA account :)