Fox Hunting

Not often do I find reason or time to write in this, such pretty rhyme…


A better hunt was never found
than when True Love celebrated Horse & Hound.
The morning crisp, skies clear and horses fresh,
A bold stiff wind was blowing hard from the west.

Port so sweet, but sweeter still the sound of hounds released.

So quickly they caught the scent, many a rider was lost in the wake.
Riding hard we strained, no sight of them could we make.
Onward we pushed, tracking, guessing, scurrying ahead,
Thorns, brush, waters rush, mud and bog, ever seeking Red.

Horses loose, riders down, further split the field did part.
No stopping, no turning, asking for all his wind and heart.
Now unsure, now a breather, HARK! and HOLD HARD!

Rider ahead, could it be? Did we find them? At last! At last!

Hounds AWAY!!! And crazy on we flew!
No more horse – I thought – but wings he grew!

Hunting homeward, all together again.
All safe, all flushed, all doing all he can.
Hound work prettily done, gates opened and closed.
Tired beasts put away to munch their hay and rest their toes.

Riders rejoice, wine and dine, celebrate and toast
This HAPPY DAY when a daring group, rather than the ordinary, chose,
To salute their love and write their Valentine
In the thick, deep mud of dear, beloved Cloudline.


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