Epsom Downs by Caroline Baldock

Epsom Downs uplands swell green swathes Breaking the brick march of housing for miles from London’s’ grey. The Downs, that is why they are called downs, Look down on London with a superior air That we horse riders like to breathe. The Derby’s celebrated here The greatest horserace England ever knew, The Derby course with

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The Council of Horses

Upon a time a neighing steed, Who graz’d amoung a num’rous breed, With mutiny had fir’d the train, And spread dissension through the plain. On matters that concern’d the State The council met in grand debate. A colt, whose strength and youthful fire, In haste left forth before the rest, And thus the list’ning throng

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A Stable Lad’s Christmas in Chantilly

I’m feeling Christmas can’t be far away when my day begins at night and the moons sun shining. I cycle to work passing sugar coated cars, inwardly grinning at all the people who forgot to put newspapers on their windscreens. Bicycles don’t need newspaper. Gradually bed warm legs loose feeling and sense of direction –

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Chantilly by Caroline Baldock

Time passes in Chantilly Like a string of racehorses Their hooves beating out a tattoo in time to life. Beneath a canopy of starts the old and young Star gazers – searching for Stars, Breathe common breath in being always hopeful. Chance bought us here, Chance will make our fortunes If the stars are on

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Derby Day by Caroline Baldock

The blazing sun with ne’r a frown Shone down from dawn to dusk on Derby Day. Buses, cars, tents of every hue, cover the ‘Downs’ New shapes, new view. The hum of traffic, people chatting, rushing, walking, Late or early, busy stokers, Finding friends or fellow workers. Where’re the horses, where’re the races? Now the

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