Digital Dimdima




Isabelle Frehner

Trapped in a yard sixteen feet high,

Running and Running around its side,

Young wild horses of all shapes and sizes,

Of whom men have to train to win prizes,

Several men saunter up to the gates,

Waving their hats while shouting to their mates,

"Hurry Up over there, haven’t got all day!"

Which could hardly be heard over the sound of a neigh,

The boys and the men chased after a colt,

Whom the old fellows reckon will turn out to be a dolt,

The young one galloped and kicked and dodged,

A lasso was needed to keep the horse lodged,

Some of the men walked out to watch,

While the rest held the colt, to prevent a botch.

With the colt tired out, the boys made a lunge,

As the little horse kicked out with a final plunge,

The second step was easy, to get on all the tack,

The bridle and saddle, which were placed on with a 'clack',

As the colt chewed the bit, his eyes showing their whites,

The boys dodged and swore at sudden kicks and bites,

With the colt tied up and ready to be ridden,

The selection of the rider had to be given,

The youngest one named Joe was picked from the crowd,

His eyes filled with surprise as he heard his name called aloud,

Slowly and quietly Joe crept towards the colt,

Then he slid into the saddle without creating a jolt,

The colt stood still, his ears pinned back,

Listening to the sounds of the outback,

The rider sat steady, not needing a stick,

As he gave the colt a slight kick,

Then young Joe waited and nothing stirred.

He shifted his weight then shouted and goaded,

And then the darned colt exploded!!!

The sound of the squealing and snorting was loud,

Horse and rider were silhouetted against a dust cloud,

The whooping was enough to waken the dead,

For Joe was holding on for his life, it was said,

The colt was maddened from head to tail,

That was when we heard young Joe wail,

He had lost hold of the plaited leather reins,

But I reckon he had lost his Brains!!!

The way that colt bucked for the sky,

I swear if he reached it, he would be able to fly!

But how Joe rode, and hung on to the saddle,

Even without the reins, he didn’t have to straddle,

Joe hung on as tight as he could,

With the wild colt under him, I don’t see how I would!

Suddenly the colt gave a jolting buck,

Which sent Joe flying, landing in some muck

Finally, when he was worn out and stuffed,

The colt gave a last plunge, then stood still and huffed,

I ran in to catch him, and cradled his head,

I could see in his eyes that he wished he were dead,

With Joe on his feet and walking to his steed,

I was going to help him mount again, but there was no need,

Joe stroked the colt lovingly on his nose,

And combed his mane the way it usually flows,

Then he clutched at the reins, his body badly jarred,

And he walked him slowly towards the yard,

As Joe slipped the bridle off, I knew it was a job well done,

And tomorrow in the morning, we will catch another one…!

Words of Appreciation

monitha Quite long. But good effort.

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