Copyright – Jo Earlam. A bit of poetry this week in memory of my mum’s favourite skewbald Arab cross, Apache, who was born on 16th May 1973. She had him from a foal to when he died in January 1993. He’d fallen very ill and we knew he had to be put down. The night before the vet was due to arrive, as I slept in a room that adjoined Apache’s stable, this poem just came into my head. I felt then, and still do all these years later, that he somehow communicated his thoughts through the wall between us. Hope you enjoy reading it.
Far across the moors,
With the eternal hunt and eternal hounds,
My spirit knows no bounds.
My hooves are the wind as it whispers through the trees,
And when it’s calm I’m quietly grazing,
The patter of the rain – drip-drop, drip-drop,
That’s me trotting down the road – clip-clop, clip-clop.
A hot summer’s day, and I’m a shadow in the shade,
No longer bothered by those flies.
Whilst in the autumn leaves, see the colour of my coat,
Right there, before your eyes.
In winter you’ll find my long white mane
A part of each new frosty morn,
And in the spring hear the birds call out my name
In a chorus of song at dawn.
The very breeze as it blows,
The sun’s rays that warm you,
And the river that flows.
And I’ll never leave you, in your pastures I’ll stay,
Just quietly grazing – and wait till the day.
The day when you join me, and we ride once again,
Through the hills and the valleys,
Over mountain and plain.
We’ll ride on together, dear mum, you and I,
And I’ll be with you always – so this isn’t goodbye.
It’s merely farewell, till we meet once again.
In the sun,
In the trees,
In the wind,
In the rain.