Megan’s Poem

Today I can’t face Polos,
And peppermint makes me cry,
As does the smell of garlic,
But struggle through, I’ll try.
Today, I’m in the office,
Lost in work if I am able,
This evening I will stay at home,
I won’t be at the stable.

There is an old head-collar,
Now hanging on the door,
And in the hall, a body brush,
Is lying on the floor.
A Mane comb in the bathroom,
There’s a lead rope on a chair,
They all serve to remind me,
That Megan isn’t there.

The yard now seems so empty,
Her stable seems so bare,
Everything is different,
Now Megan isn’t there.
Giving Meg a happy life,
That was my only goal,
And now just like a polo,
My life has got a hole.

She has no use now for a saddle,
Her bridle or her rein,
She will not need her brushing boots,
Or combs to do her mane.
Now she can’t get colic,
And now she can’t go lame,
But I miss her more than anything,
And life is not the same.

By John Peters

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