Here’s a poem that came to me through an Internet forum.  My readers tell me the author is Rachel Stocks — here’s a link to her blog.

Why do I like horses?
I reckon I must be mad.
My mother wasn’t horsey
And neither was my dad.

But the madness hit me early
And it hit me like a curse.
And I’ve never  gotten better
In fact, I’ve gotten worse.

My stables are immaculate.
My house is like a hovel.
Last year for my birthday
I got a brand new shovel.

I hardly read a paper
But I know who’s sold  their horse
And I wouldn’t watch the news
If Mr. Ed  was on, of course.

One eye’s always on the heavens
But my washing waves in vain
As I rush to get the horses in
In case it’s gonna rain.

And though they’re wearing 15 rugs,
The best that you can get,
I bring them in to keep them dry
While I get  soaking wet.

I spend up every cent I’ve got
On horsey stuff for sure.
I buy fancy rugs and fancy rugs,
And then I by some more.

I should  have had that hair cut
Or bought that nice blue shirt
At least it wouldn’t be now
Ripped to shreds and in the dirt.

I can’t make a bloody sponge cake
I don’t even try
But I can back a truck and trailer
In  the twinkling of an eye

It’s pants and riding boots
That I live in night and day
And that smell of  sweaty horses
Just doesn’t wash away.

Once in every now and then
I can dress up for a ball.
Make up and a hairdo
With high heel shoes and all.

I ache from long forgotten falls.
My knees have got no skin.
My toes have gone a funny shape.
From being  squashed again.

But late at night, when all is still
And I’ve gone to give them hay,
I touch their velvet softness
And my worries float away.

They give a gentle nicker
And they nuzzle through my hair
And I know it’s where my heart is
More than anywhere