Friday, March 26, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
God forbid that I should go to any Heaven in which there are no horses.
~R.B. Cunninghame Graham,
letter to Theodore Roosevelt, 1917
My horse's feet are as swift as rolling thunder
He carries me away from all my fears
And when the world threatens to fall asunder
His mane is there to wipe away my tears.
The wind of heaven
is that which blows
between a horse's ears.
A horse loves freedom, and the weariest old work horse will roll on the ground or break into a lumbering gallop when he is turned loose into the open.
All I pay my psychiatrist
is the cost of feed and hay,
and he'll listen to me any day.