Sunday, 6 October 2013


Warnings of danger
stir in me, my gut,
where joy often tickles,
where fear also flutters.

My horse hears a noise,
tense shoulders, neck bulging,
head lifts and ears perk.
Intently looking for something
to flee, I prepare.

Half Clyde, slow blooded.
Half racehorse, small brained,
big hearted pumping,
muscles lubed with quick blood.

She loves to be scared, 
fear and flight is her nature,
to run like an asshole,
huge clomping gallops,
turf and mud flinging.

And when I feel that blood rising
 I get some


  1. The palpable crescendo. Good one :)

  2. I felt like I was riding along with you, taking it all in. Did I mention the thought of even getting into a saddle gives me butterflies? Horses are one of the few things that scare me consistently. Its something I must get over so I can feel my way into poems such as yours. So well done.

  3. great one! I love the descriptive words you used. I could picture the whole thing. well done.

  4. Thanks guys. I had to dramatize for effect. In truth my mare Sweetheart is a very bold horse and balks at nothing (well, almost nothing).