Across the sand or through the gorse,
leaping over Aintree’s course
rides the wonder
called the Horse.
Royal duty, on parade,
gazing in a Sussex glade,
Gymkhana day
with tail of braid.
Plumed and brushed with chestnut sheen,
carries all from waif to queen,
and everyone
that’s in between.
Galloping with Mustang fire.
Steaming still in Highland byre.
Filly, stallion,
Shetland, Shire.
Hear its heart and kiss its chin,
stroke the mane
and smell the skin,
neighing poems from within.
Athlete, best friend, loping grace.
Pegasus that knows its place.
Servant of
the human race.
Stewart Henderson