Animal Poem

Horse and Rider Poem

This poem is about horse and rider, but could just as well be about two friends working together to accomplish a goal.

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The Lift

©

Published: October 2007

Hoofed feet steadily pound the ground,
furred perked ears carefully swivel round and round.
The wind whips by, masking any distracting sound.

A braided tail sways in the breeze,
the last stride is near, time to bend the knees.
The haunches are readied, and soon leaned back on,
ready to spring, and in a flash we're gone.

In two point, we are one,
flying high, soaring past the sun.
When it ends, we refuse to let it be done,
don't you see this all excels past anything called fun?

Not fun at all, something much more hardly earned,
no doubt about it, argument adjourned.
Now we go again, taking a second shot,
The double jump comes up, we've trained for this a lot

The cavalletti is now the target of four brown eyes,
and once again we're soaring up to the heavenly skies.
Then hind legs are further elevated, and lifted over the bar;
A little secret, barely known, that's just how good we are.

Confidence is ours as we land back on the earth,
four feet are braced calmly as they again race upon the turf.
And once we run just one more everlasting stride,
both horse and I are solely each other's safety guide.

We approach the jump, determination written across our face,
we go again for this last time, one final sweet embrace.
We dance the dance that's been perfected to the last swish of the tail,
we once again are united, and there's no way we can possibly fail.

Defying gravity, for the last time without wings we fly,
no matter what happens now, this moment will never die.
Over the poles we go, everything looked good, they said,
but then came the thump, the clanking sound of dread.

Once again we were obeying the laws of gravitation,
for now we hold the memory of that unique elevation.
Slowing the pace we finish, without a perfect score,
forever now and always, I wouldn't ask for more.

The perfect ride was wonderful, we really had a blast,
mistakes are made, and then corrected, we won't repeat the past.
One mistake showed me the real way in,
my horse was happy anyhow, no one told her we didn't win.
Contempt with whatever, who cares about their critique
I don't, for sure, that's because our friendship has reached its peak.

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