It is about riding my horse Kalu in a horse show. I am trying to put into words the amazing feeling of winning one, especially when you think you did poorly and don't expect much. Then it is even better to be victorious and I want non-riders to be able to feel the thrill and joy of it, even without it actually happening.

I cluck to my horse,

“Trot” I say.

He picks up speed

But he’s thinking of hay.


A tap with the whip,

A gentle kick,

He goes in full gear,

After just one prick.


I smile at the judge,

My ride sets his head,

She marks her clipboard,

I know I’m dead.


Though a mark could be good or bad,

I feel deep down,

I’ll come in last.


Despite that jolt of fear,

I give it my all,

My horse perks his ears.


We march down the straight-away,

We slow to a walk.

We begin a canter seamlessly,

The judges talk.


I lean back,

I smile bright,

I pass the same judge,

The clipboard is marked twice!


But this time I’m not bothered,

This time I don’t care,

Win or lose, I remind my self,

Its just good to be here.


When we go down to a flat gait once more,

I put my heels down,

Further than before.


I squeeze with my knees,

I shorten my reins,

I make it look fun,

I’ve been planning this part for days.


On the reverse,

My horse is much faster,

He twitches and dances,

In the most unruly manner.


I tell him easy,

I tell him woah.

I begin to trot,

But I am far from slow.


He speeds past the judges,

Spraying them with dirt.

He flies down the rail,

I fear I’ll get hurt.


The ringmaster says walk,

Then canter please,

I give my horse a loose rein,

He canters beautifully.


But slowly but surely,

He picks up speed,

Now his gait is wild,

“Slow down Kalu!” I plead


“Walk please, riders. At the walk”

Says the ringmaster,

I try to slow down.

By the time he says trot thats as far as I got.


I march to the lineup,

And stop just in time.

I tell my horse “feet”,

His park is divine.


Despite my wild second way,

My horse has calmed and stands quietly.

He gently chews on the bit,

When the judges come around, this is it.

All three look at me,

All three make their choice.

All three move on to the next horse,

I fear the ringmaster’s voice.


When finally he speaks I clench my fist tight,

What place will I get? Did I do everything right?

When he announces the winner,

I think I will throw up.

Is it me? Is it me? Or did I not make the cut.


When I hear my name it can’t be true,

I won! I won! I can’t lose!

I trot to the winners circle,

I smile and pose,

I won a trophy, a blue ribbon, even a rose!


I kick my horse and he trots fast.

I smile and begin my victory pass.

The people take pictures,

They are all for me!

I love the feeling of victory!


When I get back outside I hug my horse,

I give him a treat,

I have no remorse.


I laugh with the joy of victory,

And it would not be there without my steed.

He is my hero and my pride and joy,

I will alway love my good boy.


The End

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