Slumped in the blood-soaked grass I sat
With her head upon my knee.
That velvet Muzzle had breathed it's last,
Those gentle eyes had turned to glass,
And I fondled the ears that would never cast
Again for beast or me.

The track in the scrub clear marked the path
Of the bull that had gored her flanks.
He'd ripped her guts in a lonely creek,
She'd stood her ground with a mortal shriek
Then carried me clear on her dying feet,
My tears her only thanks.

How I cried for that mare with the gamest eye
And a heart that had passed the test.
No finer horse was ever astride
The ragged heights of the Great Divide;
No finer friend had ever died
'Neath the brow of the mountain's crest.

Oh the blade of anguish twisted deep
At the stroke of that last caress,
Then a serpent stirred within my soul
As anger rose to take control,
And vengeance was my only goal;
My sights on cruel redress.

And the rogue that tore my beauty's flesh
Was mine for black revenge.
I tracked him through the fading light,
beyond the lonely,moonlit night,
Then cornered for that final fight
To death,to death avenge.

A mindless killing-lust took hold
And I screamed with every breath.
He must have known he couldn't win
For his mortal bawling raised a din.
And he fell to me as she fell to him,
But his a slower death.

And when at last the madness ceased
To shake me like a leaf,
Beyond a brooding,distant hill,
My little mare was lifeless still,
And I stared with numbness at the kill
That hadn't eased my grief.

And I mourned that mare with the gamest eye
And a heart that had passed the test.
For no finer horse was ever astride
The ragged heights of the Great Divide;
And no finer friend had ever died
'Neath the brow of the mountain's crest.

By Mark Kleinschmidt


All the best
Skip

That is SO Aussie in its content - Brought a tear to my eyes...

Grrr!!!