Sonnet From An Elizabethan Horse to His Love
A Response From His Mistress
Sir, now, thou hast mine heart in a canter.
As colts unreined and broncs unbridled thou
Stirr-ups w’subtle tack that hidden altar
Furlong from men, from jacks, forbid by vow.
A jog, a jump, a lope, a gait with pace
Relentless, bolt but not away too far
From one thou hast enchanted so to race,
So saddled, bit and stung, with love bizarre.
If trot we must to reach a place to hitch,
A stable Where that balks not nor hobbles
A joy unconventional, a strange stitch
On norm purebred, I come devoid of squ’bbles.
In loft divine, our home, my love, my sire,
Warmblood chestnuts I shall give for thy desire.