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..eng. hästdikt...


..eng. hästdikt..., Therese, 11:25:14, 98-07-07
Vilken..., Jess, 11:47:28, 98-07-07
visst, Therese, 14:14:55, 98-07-07
..eng. hästdikt...
"In memory of Ruffian"

In '73, at the end of the year,
Big Red finished his stunning career.
Critics said the chances were slim,
that there'd soon be another with the stature of him.
But few months went by when at Belmont track,
the crowd was enchanted by a streak of black.
Just a baby in a maiden race,
a record was equaled at an easy pace.
This horse, this champ was not male;
it was a filly these crowds did hail.
Hearts she broke, and dreams she tore;
never has a horse like her before.
Humiliating the best of the best,
she tore up the track from east to west.
The filly handed out defeat,
and every mare she met, she beat.
On the kingly sport's other side,
the division of colts had found its pride.
His coat a rugged chocolate brown,
few of his type could take him down.
A race of the the century was arranged,
the two would meet with history changed.
Eye to eye; princess to prince,
a race like this has not been since.
The princess listed at two to five,
by a crowd to see their heroine thrive.
They broke together, boy and girl;
the great match race was about to unfurl.
Neither horse would lose the least,
the heart commander of this rugged beast.
To the backstretch the royalty came,
awaiting the hope of eternal fame.
But the princess harbored plans of her own;
to his majesty, her tail would be shown.
All eyes were on the darker bay;
with such a force she pulled away!
So loud the massive crowd did cheer,
there was a sound they could not hear.
With a sudden, grueling crack,
the princess, she was falling back!
The announcer's horror stricken voice,
made the call without a choice:

"Ruffian has broken down!"

The world was left with but a frown.
But down the track she tried to hop;
that filly was not going to stop!
Her heart to strong to let her give in;
she ran 'til her ankle was dangling by skin.
Her jockey pulled with all his might,
but could not stop her futile fight.
While her heart fought on, her body could not,
as the fates wove out her tragic plot.
Later that night the doctors slaved,
in hopes the filly might be saved.
Finally they set a cast,
and watched as the sedatives passed.
Amidst a race, the filly woke,
gaining again with every stroke!
And all the doctors watched with fright,
as she flung her legs with all her might.
The cast was torn, each screw and bolt;
she had to go back and catch the colt!
A chance at life, there would have been,
if it not for her will to win.
Since her time, there's been many a star:
Slew, John Henry, the mighty Cigar.
But still the legend burns like fire,
of the horse whose heart would never tire.
This precious life could not be saved;
she rests beneath a flowered grave.
The needle met the noble hoss,
and cost the world its greatest loss.
One more round of blood to pump,
her heart gave one last mighty thump.
With history lurking by her side,
she gave her final breath and died.

av: Therese   e-post: mina@hem.passagen.se   kl. 11:25:14, 98-07-07

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Vilken...
...fin dikt!
Jessica

av: Jess   e-post: lilla_my_23@hotmail.com   kl. 11:47:28, 98-07-07
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visst
är den...fick den i ett eng.häst list mail....

MvH
av: Therese   e-post: mina@hem.passagen.se   kl. 14:14:55, 98-07-07

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