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Wednesday 30 January 2013

OLD BLUE BY FIONA CUMMINGS


OLD BLUE BY FIONA CUMMINGS

 

Pull on some blue jeans and my check shirt

 Scrape from my boots the glued on dirt

 Pick up my hat

Call in my cat

Feed him his breakfast

Curse at the mist

Wishing for some sun

So I can feel the heat as we run

Under the summer sky

No worries

No need to ask why

Just saddle up my dapple horse

Feed him his apple of course

Clime on high

Do the rough Corse

Over the heathery  hills

Feeling light like feathery quills

Oh such absolute thrills

When I am riding

No time for crying

Chuck away those awful pills

Jumping the fence

Will he make it

I’m tense

Of course he would

He is so good

The smell of the earth beneath the hooves

Let him go free

Allow him to choose

In which direction will he go

Oh it’s so wonderful my hair shall flow

The wind in my face

As he cantors with grace

The happiness he must feel

His life he must steel

For his species are chained

For their freedom is pained

But my horse is free

Just him and me

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