The laborious slogging
\nAnd strenuous plodding
\nPainstaking and active
\nUphill and down
\nPut out one’s effort
\nAnd one’s endeavours
\nMove heaven and earth
\nFor the sight of a crown<\/p>\n
How muscles are driven
\nThrough clods and through clayballs
\nWe pull out the stops
\nThrough the man hours of day
\nLaden with legwork
\nAnd treadmills of tension
\nExhausted and weary
\nThat be our pay<\/p>\n
Brute force resilience
\nThe pull and the heart power
\nThe spunk and the nerve and the
\nBack bone of steel
\nInvincible hot blooded spirits of equine
\nA sovereign so powerful
\nNothing dare conceal<\/p>\n
What is incontestable
\nLegs of deep feathering
\nWeighty and forceful
\nEmphatically so
\nWe are the heavies the drays
\nOf the old days
\nStalwart and ready
\nTo unflaggingly go<\/p>\n
Out in the fields
\nThrough the tussocks and nettles
\nPatient yet docile
\nPloughing it be
\nA test for the asking
\nConstantly tasking
\nStriving to please
\nResourceful and free<\/p>\n
Less feed to body weight
\nThose are the guidelines
\nWater is life for man and for beast
\nTwenty five gallons a day
\nThe requirement
\nCandid and open thats really the least
\nWe have, and team spirit we have such harmony
\nRest on our laurels and sink in the hay
\nHeavy the horses with great conformation
\nAble to work with forbearance each day<\/p>\n
Come with the master he is not a tyrant
\nBut hunts with the hounds which to me is a sin
\nFloating his anarchy over the hedgerows
\nSubjecting wild souls to a downtrodden spin
\nOur need is restraint in the face of such evil
\nRidden sometimes we are ridden too
\nThe sweat of his loins and the dark of his passion
\nThe wilderness children who he must subdue<\/p>\n
Where are the laws that restrict so called countrymen
\nWhere are the police with restrain Orders they
\nAll should be ostacized and made to follow
\nWe need the adherence and it must stay
\nWe heavy horses giants in waiting
\nWe feel the sadness and the misery
\nOur joy is lasting when all else is casting
\nThe countryside blasting its great symphony<\/p>\n
We with our height can see over the barn walls
\nWe look at the cloudscape and smile with the sun
\nWe work with such symmetry it is no burden
\nTo lay down on the earth when each day is done
\nRemaining buoyant our mettle on fire
\nOur slow and, stalwart gait and our desire
\nTo seek transformation and wonderment where
\nMan stuff is causing now so much despair<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The laborious slogging And strenuous plodding Painstaking and active Uphill and down Put out one’s effort And one’s endeavours Move heaven and earth For the sight of a crown How muscles are driven Through clods and through clayballs We pull … Continue reading