From his coronet, through his tendons and right up to his crest
When you looked at his withers you could see he was best
His tail was magnificent and hung past his hock
He was blessed with three white ones and a single black sock.
The horse was a Crioulo that had come from Uruguay
I fell for the majesty of this horse I would buy
He was the colour of buckskin with a black tail and mane
And the dun gene line backed him with a long thin black stain.
He stood fifteen hands and he ran like a king
Astride him made me want to just burst out and sing
I raced over fields and I took him over fence
He knew what I asked of him, he had so much sense.
I loved him for thirty fours years from a colt
And when he took his last breath it gave me a jolt
But I’ll never forget Samson, for that was his name
He let me ride on him but he was only ‘so’ tame.
©Joe Wilson – They only let you tame them so much…2014
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
From his coronet, through his tendons and right up to his crest
When you looked at his withers you could see he was best
His tail was magnificent and hung past his hock
He was blessed with three white ones and a single black sock.
The horse was a Crioulo that had come from Uruguay
I fell for the majesty of this horse I would buy
He was the colour of buckskin with a black tail and mane
And the dun gene line backed him with a long thin black stain.
He stood fifteen hands and he ran like a king
Astride him made me want to just burst out and sing
I raced over fields and I took him over fence
He knew what I asked of him, he had so much sense.
I loved him for thirty fours years from a colt
And when he took his last breath it gave me a jolt
But I’ll never forget Samson, for that was his name
He let me ride on him but he was only ‘so’ tame.
©Joe Wilson – They only let you tame them so much…2014
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