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Strolling in the centre of the world On sunday in the cold, Heard soft on blowing wind The clip clop of lightweight hooves. Came in sight waving whip, curled. Now beauty on four toes walking, Joined to shafts and tall wheels shining, Balanced true by humans two, This cart, jet, glowing black, Rumbles gentle, creaking, passing. Stopped and stared and watched this spectacle, Flashing feet and spinning spokes, All to be seen the smoothest, Silkiest, eye pleasing, picture, Stepping smartly round each obstacle. Lost in this living dream, Shamless open mouthed face, And eyes, fixed, wide glazed, Brought to sudden conscious state with "Good Morning", From all members of this team. For, I swear This lovely creature, Born free, Spoke to me. |