If he was with the Queen,
he would be her majestic Cleveland Bay.
But he was with me and
just as regal.
Knowing where to go,
speeding through the meadows in a flow,
judging when to stop with a whoa,
appearing to satisfy my ego,
jumping around the ponds and puddles to forego,
there was no turning or needing to go slow.
I didn’t have to tell him,
he didn’t have to ask me,
I wasn’t heavy for him,
He had a lightness around him.
He wandered,
pondered and
shouldered.
He just did.
Riding for a lifetime,
bonding for a good time,
just know it’s not summertime,
Cos my whitehorse
will be here in no time.
Come, run with me!
