Poem for Jack Crawford, supreme horseman and dressage trainer. departed.

He arises.
He horses.
He horses around.
He arises on his horse
into his heaven.
He rides, yes, he rides.
The hills resound with the thunder
of his ride,
and the riders thrill.
He carries himself
with his smile,
like a gentlemen
into the sunset.
Ride, Jack, ride.
It is never too late, it is never too old,
this I learned, this I gained.
Your gentle passion nurtures all
as you ride.