I fell over the other day,
Silly and embarrassing really,
Also ****** painful and in truth?
Avoidable!

But it got me thinking because
I was pulling on a rope when it happened,
A rope that then gave way,
It doesn't matter how,

And as I fell
I grasped that natural fibre cord
Even harder as if it
Even then would save me

From the painful landing,
No breaking fall,
No twist or roll just falling
Holding a slack hempen line,

But we all do this in life,
We hold our dreams long past
The point where they
Even slightly may come true,

We grasp them ever tighter
Even as they slip through the fingers
Of our hearts
And lonely souls

Until we land as I did
In a heap - covered not in mud
But in the knowledge not sjust
That it is over (whatever "it" may be)

So much as that it never was

Nor in fact would ever be

You can really hurt yourself
If you hold your breath too long,
Headaches and dulled vision,
Part way to passing out with enough
Determination,
Add water and depth and a swift rise,
The bends as bubbles of gas
Form in unhelpful places,
Or swam too deep too far
And barely making the surface
That suddenly seems so far
From my feebly flapping limbs,

I guess we have all held
Our breath across the years,
Waiting on some thing or someone
To finally come good,
Or arrive or even just to be,
Somehow or somewhere or somewhen,
Breath suspended,
Life on hold just waiting with
Inextinguishable hope
Of something good,
And precious,
Worth waiting for,

Well I know I have,
And I know I have been the one,
The thing and or the circumstance
That has caused breath to be held,
And to my shame not always
Was I worth it,
But now - actually it is me with bursting lungs,
And the pain is near unbearable,
Perhaps time to let out that air with
A loud and pain filled gush,
To turn and start the swim
To shore

Some dreams are never meant

To be

A race horse lives,
Indeed is bred and cherished,
To run and to gallop and to lead the field,
To leap improbable heights
And depths,
And above all this to win,

Not to fall at the first,
Or the second,
Or the third fourth and fifth,
They are creatures of
Air and thunder,
Of flying hooves and sods of earth,

Sometimes indeed they fall,
Then rise riderless
And confused,
Unsure where to go or
Indeed how fast
Or even indeed why?

But these are gathered
Gently from the field,
And returned via expensive
Wagons to the stable,
Where lads and girls and vets
Are waiting to get them right,

A veritabe deluge of love
And care and expertise
Awaits these amazing equine
Flights of fancy,
Whatever their mistakes,
Whoever they threw from the saddle,

That partnership between
Jockey and horse breeds
Love and forgiveness
No matter the error,
No matter the pain of heart
Or soul,

But what of the horse
That breaks a leg,
That does not rise
But screams too long,
Too loud?
Alas that horse however fine,

That horse is always shot,

I fell over at the weekend,
Fell clenching a rope
That was no longer there to support
And so it didn't,
And James hit the deck with a thud,

And it hurt if I'm honest,
Knocked the wind right from me
And sent shock waves
Through every *****
Every sinew vein and muscle,

As I lay there with a
Worrying spikey pain,
I wondered whether I was damaged
Or just jarred,
Okay or out of the game,

But then the cameras came out
And so did pride
And pragmatism,
And a rapid standing up
Because - well - you know....

This is not the first time I have fallen
And probably wont be the last,
Because **** happens like that
in life and just the same in love,

Because stuff,
And people,
Will always
Let you
Down

My horse was showing so much promise,
Fit and healthy,
Much loved and admired
Fresh fed and groomed to a shine,

But a shiny coat and tack doesn't matter much,
What goes on the track counts more,
Amidst the thundering hooves
The sweat and flying turf

It's the placing at the line
That counts,
And my horse?
She fell

At the first.