My heart how it quickens
Its exaggerated beat
As I strain pushing pedals
With aching hot feet
Tired and panting
My lungs how they vent
As the race to the stable
Is all but now spent
The dandy brush whisks
Hair free of its dust
For I groom and I polish
As only I must
My vigor rewards
What my arms will afford
Brilliant satin of red
Set afire
It spreads
I coo and I pat
I pick and I praise
I laugh and I smile
As I groom all the while
No saddle, no crop
But a helmet on top
Jeans press to horseflesh
As we ready our quest
We march on our way
Pretend soldiers at play
All at the glorious
Expense of the day
My pony’s no mean one
Either trickster or demon
She’s patient and kind
With a trustworthy mind
Like best friends of yore
Over terrain we explore
Of timber and wild flowers
Forest creatures galore