You are the frozen morning shivering in the calm breeze,

You are the icy condensation like a smoky fire

You are that tired feeling when you attempt to catch the spirted ponies,

You are the freshly clipped, insane equines enthusiastically bucking in the field,

You are the velvet muzzle nibbling against my hand, snuffling the treat

ready for a competition.

You are the horse float, silver with gold stars,

You are the nervous horse prancing around like a racehorse that is ready to race.

You are that relieved feeling, when you find out that you have been placed 1^st in your class, and come home with a red rosette,

You are now turned out into the frozen field once more ready for another icy day.