Susie's Point-to Pointer


Our Poem

Jostling crowds, picnics and wine,
Soup and coffee when the weather's not fine.
A tip at the Ball from the Whipper In,
Voiced midst music. whisky and gin.
"He's bold", he'd said. "With a turn of a speed",
"At hedge or wall he'd take the lead".
The Captain's thoroughbred in the paddock looks good
Though l'd seen him play up when they drew Badger's Wood
Now there's an old friend, a Hunter true,
Tireless, brave, taking the challenge new.
Well boned or light. roman nose or dish,
Each hunt a favourite now a well voiced wish.
All good horses. some of Hunting's best,
Ready. fit for the season's last test.
Jack Russels galore. a Lab's delight,
Springer and Cocker dodge the occasional bite.
Collies aloof. surveying all.
Though keeping clear of the Deerhound so tall.
Or the mongrel who's crafty eye.
ls on the picnic with the enormous pork pie.
There's children and laughter. time by the rails.
For the latest gossip and Hunting tales.
Or of days when the race was point to point.
Through woodland, plough. with each aching joint.
As they galloped over countryside tinged with green
Spire to spire, a glorious scene.
ln the paddock they're all full of hope.
At fence and ditch most can easily cope.
But on the run in. the hearts of both horse and man.
Beat as one to give all they can.
The crowds cheer them. the bookies pay.
A Point to Point, a perfect day.

Verse by Mary Lascelles

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