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Horses of the Camargue
by
Neil Bridgens
Roaming the plains, a neighing
shrill
beast that gallops the land of kings,
veins so thick, majestic mane that flows
horses of the camargue
you'll find him when the wind it blows.
Rainbow steam he sweats
mighty warrior beyond the tame,
in his own glory he is one
steady, fast, he moves so swift
horses of the camargue
forever, he'll drift.
But now the wild and strong posture is ageing,
an old horse is a plough horse
an old horse is a dead horse.
The young stallions so beyond machine
horses of the camargue
so seldom seen.
A mammoth giant still plodding on,
proud to the noose and saddle
and yet the strap signifies fear
horses of the camargue
your time is near.
The name remains a noble call
no beast still gallops green the grass
as does the majestic,
and while time shall never fade the breed
horses of the camargue
you have done your deed.
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