Our Poem

Its gymkhana day and village fete,
There's panic about in case we're late.
One jodhpur boot has gone for a walk,
What isn 't done, the topic for talk.
"You've got my girth". "No I've not",
"I don 't want a coat, I'll be too hot".
Behind their papers parents hide,
Even the dog stays by their side.
Ponies are groomed, ready to box,
Plaited and bandaged up to their hocks.
Chaos then calm as we set on our way,
"Don't forget to smile if you lose today".
Just as we arrive, the Leading Rein starts,
All cute enough to melt our hearts.
In the Best Turned Out the judge takes his time,
Checking each pony right down the line.
The Clear Round is small so we jump it with ease,
Then it's time for a rest in the shade of the trees.
In the Handy Pony a green rosette,
Those hours of practice I'll not forget.
The Bare Back jumping was not a success,
I'd borrowed dear old comfy Bess.
Four faults in The Jumping, what more can I say,
Until like a dervish in bending, I won, "Hip Hurray".

In the Potato and Flag race my judgement was poor,
But a third in Steppingstones made me eager for more.
A cool dip Apple Bobbing, the Musical Sacks,
We made the last pair, went on opposite tracks.
Silence, we ran, on the sack each a knee....
I knew the blue rosette was the one for me.
"Well done'. "You too", we both wore a smile,
The last day of the hols, but the best by a mile.

Verse by Mary Lascelles

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