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 Ode to an Old Barrel Horse
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Red Hawk
Clinician



USA
5092 Posts

Posted - 04/17/2008 :  10:38:43 AM  Show Profile Send Red Hawk a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Since we have a few can chasers (and some that chased cans at one time or another), I thought everyone would enjoy this poem from another horsey forum I don't know about the rest of you, but this brought back many cherished memories and a tear to my eye:

The Game Horse

He was tied up to the trailer out behind the stands,
a blaze-face sorrel gelding, roughly 15 hands,
High withers, slightly ewe-necked, back a little swayed,
white hairs on his muzzle, eyes sunk in with age.
An old warrior with his best years long since gone away,
left here baby-sitting at a small-town horse play-day.

Watched over by her parents, a young girl kissed the horse;
they coached her on the fine points and wished her luck, of course.
He hardly seemed to notice when the small girl took his lead;
he followed without balking but not with any speed.
She climbed on and walked him round some, he went without a fuss;
his head was down, the reins were slack, his feet dragged in the dust.

When they called her name his ears pricked up, she sat up in her seat;
trotting to the gate there was new lightness in his feet.
When they got into the alley he flared his nostrils wide,
picked up the bit and arched his neck, she latched on for the ride.
She let him go and as they went the years melted away,
and he was once again the barrel horse he'd been in younger days.

With eyes on fire and muscles bunched, raw power in his stride,
blazing speed and energy wrapped in horse's hide.
He had chased the cans from old Cheyenne to the Calgary Stampede,
from Amarillo to Salinas, he had lived the game horse creed:
'Run to live, live to run,' it was printed in his genes,
from nose to tail his big heart pumped blue blood through his veins.

Coming through the pattern they touched the last can some;
it was still up on its edge when they were halfway home.
When she asked him for a little, he gave her all he had;
the barrel stood, the run was good, and the time was not too bad.
When she pulls the saddle he's an old horse once again,
but while he's running barrels, he's all he's ever been.

So here's to that old gamer -- may our golden years like his
be filled with golden moments and glorious memories,
Of races run and races won, of places that we've been,
of friends we've made along the way and good things we have seen,
And someone who will need us for what we still can do--
may our needs be small, our wants be less, and our troubles be but few.

by Tony Schwader


"God forbid that I should go to any heaven in which there are no horses"
--Robert Browning

Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
-- Author Unknown

Montezrider
Clinician



USA
1284 Posts

Posted - 04/17/2008 :  11:24:45 AM  Show Profile Send Montezrider a Private Message  Reply with Quote

Thank you, RH! Loved it, and that last line says it all!

A good rider has a thinking mind, fine emotions and a sensitive hand.-Tu Yu,72 BC

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Bethany
Advanced Rider

USA
165 Posts

Posted - 04/17/2008 :  12:22:00 PM  Show Profile Send Bethany a Private Message  Reply with Quote
I'm not a gamer but my eyes are misted!

Beth
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Hook
Trail Boss (Moderator)



Canada
6115 Posts

Posted - 04/18/2008 :  04:28:25 AM  Show Profile  Visit Hook's Homepage Send Hook a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Thanks RedHawk. You have to have had one to fully appreciate the word picture this poem creates. I could also picture the other "been there" experienced show horses in the ring with their latest charge.

Brought back some great memories and tears for the ones already gone.

Hook(ed)......on Horses

"The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life. " Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
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Dixieme
Beginning Rider



USA
148 Posts

Posted - 04/18/2008 :  10:42:16 AM  Show Profile Send Dixieme a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Though I haven't run a barrel pattern since I was probably 10-12 years old this poem brought back all those wonderful feelings and rememberences of the really fun times we had on what some would call "dead broke" horses.......thanks for sharing.....his words paint a wonderful picture.

Dixieme

Here is one little girl who would rather clean a stall than her own room...
Here is one little girl who would rather wear chaps than a party dress...
Here is one little girl who would rather go to the barn than the mall...
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Red Hawk
Clinician



USA
5092 Posts

Posted - 04/18/2008 :  12:21:02 PM  Show Profile Send Red Hawk a Private Message  Reply with Quote
quote:
Originally posted by Hook

Thanks RedHawk. You have to have had one to fully appreciate the word picture this poem creates. I could also picture the other "been there" experienced show horses in the ring with their latest charge.

Brought back some great memories and tears for the ones already gone.



Oh, I couldn't agree more, Hook. I can't believe how vivid a portrait this gentlman has painted with his words.


"God forbid that I should go to any heaven in which there are no horses"
--Robert Browning

Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
-- Author Unknown
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Jinxnwv
Advanced Rider



USA
477 Posts

Posted - 04/18/2008 :  9:14:36 PM  Show Profile Send Jinxnwv a Private Message  Reply with Quote
RH Thank you for sharing... I loved that!

Later Bye Bye
Love & Respect your horse & they will do the same for you!
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ILoveJoe
Clinician



USA
2499 Posts

Posted - 04/19/2008 :  01:43:27 AM  Show Profile Send ILoveJoe a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Boy doesn't that just make you tear up.
Thanks RH




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