The Child & the Horse by Kerry Lee - Poet, The Child & the Horse Bush Poem, Contemporary modern poem The Child & the Horse
The Gateway to Contemporary & Classical (Modern & Traditional) Bush Poetry

Carrying on the traditions of AB (Banjo) Paterson, Henry Lawson, Thomas E Spencer, CJ Dennis,
PJ Hartigan (John O'Brien), Adam Lindsay Gordon, Dorothea Mackellar, Harry Breaker Morant,
Henry Kendall, Barcroft Henry Boake, Will Ogilvie, Francis Kenna and George Essex Evans.

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Kerry Lee

I have always been passionate about horses. As a young child they drew me like a magnet. I could not pass by a horse without fondling it. And breathing in its warm aroma. At times I couldn't resist the urge to clamber up and sneak a ride.

One time an irate farmer caught me riding his prized stock horse. He was so infuriated he wanted to punch it out with my Dad. Dad declined so the angry farmer punched our FJ Holden instead. He must have been a lateral thinker though, as from then on he allowed me to ride a little old grey pony his own children had no interest in — a clever initiative as it kept me away from his stockhorse.

Though Flash could barely raise a trot when I rode him my imagination took over and my dreams became reality.

Jean-clad and freckled, the child, small and slight
Stands alone in the paddock enthralled by the sight
Of dapples on silver, wild mane flowing free,
A mystical stallion—a child’s fantasy.

Enthralled by his grace as he prances around
She holds tight her breath. She makes not a sound.
Watches him cantering, neck arched and proud,
Coat made from gossamer, tail a silk shroud.

Softly she calls to him, beckons him near.
He spins on his haunches. He shows her no fear.
Gently he nuzzles the small out stretched hand,
Bows down to her touch, heeds her command.

How did she mount up? Did God grant her wings?
Perched high on his broad back her tiny heart sings.
She thrills to the feel of his long easy stride,
The touch of his coat, the scent of his hind of his hide..

Melting into his flesh the two become one.
She urges him onwards, the dream has begun.
Silver mane and brown braids, laughing eyes how they fly
Through a ripple of pasture, over logs, leaping high!

Barefooted and bold they splash through the stream-
A cascade of diamonds reflect the sun’s gleam.
Out on to the meadows where soft breezes play.
As a ripple of vapour they dance on their way.

Then on up the mountain. With each joyful bound
The echoes reply to hard hooves on dry ground.
They pause for while at the top of the rise.
Gazing down on their kingdom they stand mesmerised.

Then downward they gallop o’ boulders and stones.
She is his princess, he is her throne.
Through the dark forest—how could they dare?
Out into the sunshine, gold rays in her hair.

A touch of her hand and he quietens the pace.
She strokes the proud neck, enthralled by his grace.
She buries her face in his tangle of mane
And weeps for his beauty, weeps for her pain

For, back from the dreamtime the steed fades away.
Now the horse that she rides is a little old grey,
Stocky and shaggy but dear to her heart
For he is the truth from where her dreams start.

Dreams are for living and life’s but a dream
For what in this world is just as it seems?
Look past the horizon, let your heart be your guide,
Hold tight to your dreams and mount up and ride!

Contemporary Bush Poets
Bobby Miller Bruce Simpson Carmel Wooding Carol Heuchan Charlee Marshall Claude Morris David Campbell Denis Kevans Ellis Campbell Gary Fogarty Glenny Palmer Graham Fredriksen Gregory North Guy McLean Helen Avery Jack Drake Janine Haig Keith Lethbridge Kerry Lee	Marco Gliori Mark Kleinschmidt Max Merckenschlager Maxine Ireland Melanie Hall Milton Taylor Murray Hartin Naked Poets Neil Hulm Noel Stallard R M Williams Ray Essery Ron Liekefett Ron Stevens Rupert McCall Shirley Friend Terry Regan Veronica Weal Zita Horton
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