Up The Gallops

Our Poem

It was dawn and mist swirled across the hill,
Blanketing the valley. obscuring the mill.
The first string prancing on their way,
Enveloped in its shroud at this time of day.

Like ghostly horsemen, clattering up the lane.
A glimpse of the sun, the moon on the wane.
Towards the downs in wavering line.
Past cottage, field, the solitary pine.

They reached the gallops, then circled the guv,
Each lad sitting patiently, each filled with love,
Waiting for the thrill early workout always brings
Dedicated as they were to the Sport of Kings.

The sight unreal, so much power contained
Between hands and heels, so easily trained.
Sleek quarters shining as the sun breaks through,
There's banter ana curses from Bill, Bob ana Sue.

'They bridle their horses, the Guv gives a wave,
'Then set off up the tan on the orders he gave.
Manes, tails, breath catching on the breeze,
Eating up the ground with a thoroughbreds ease.

They cantered quietly up the slope,
Drew level, bunched around 'the Hope'.
Necks stretched. they flew, so finely bred,
But effortlessly he surged ahead.

The Guv he smiled as they all slowed down,
'Then quickly his face turned to a frown
As he glanced across to the rest of the string,
Loose horse, it danced, each foot a spring.

A big bay colt, it snorted and played.
Came close to another whose ears flat were laid
He bucked, was kicked, but felt no pain,
Till a lad reached down and caught his rein.

They finished work, walked slowly away,
Back down the lane to rest for the day.
Enveloped in steam their bodies sleek,
Sweat turned to lather, looking so meek.



Verse by Mary Lascelles

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