Somewhere in time’s own space,
there must be some sweet pastured place
Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow,
some paradise where the horses go:
For, by the love that guides my pen,
I know great horses live again.
–Stanley Harrison
Somewhere in time’s own space,
there must be some sweet pastured place
Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow,
some paradise where the horses go:
For, by the love that guides my pen,
I know great horses live again.
–Stanley Harrison
From my past, into my future.
Through every day, through every night.
Every breath I ever take, they are my life…
~ b. ramsell
I pray that gentle hands may guide my feet;
I ask for kind commands from voices sweet;
At night a stable warm with scented hay,
Where, safe from harm, I’ll sleep till day.
Posted by Elaine.
With easy seat behold them ride–
These are the truly qualified–
Models of Sporting Men;
Graceful and elegant, yet neat;
Egad, the very sight’s a treat
I long to have again!
Posted by Don
The old mare watched the tractor work
A thing of rubber and steel,
Ready to follow the slightest wish
Of the man who held the wheel.
She said to herself as it passed by,
You gave me an awful jolt
But there’s one thing you cannot do,
You cannot raise a colt.
–Anonymous
Posted by Diana.