The Monarch likes to take them out, when she has to do a show;
Then with the Irish Stagecoach to Parliament they go.
You might have seen the six strong mares, with their brasses polished clean;
For everything must be just right when you go out with The Queen.
by John Fingleton
Some horses like to gallop, while others like to trot,
And when they go along the road their shoes go 'clippty-clop'.
There are those who like to graze in fields, and they are sometimes shy;
And others who stand at gates and watch the world go by.
In ancient years they did the work, of what lorries do to-day,
And pulled great loads from morn 'till night, with a carriage called a dray.
Now horses don't like riders at American rodeos,
They buck and jump around the ring in the hope that they will go.
Then further west there are Indians who ride their mounts bareback,
And paint them with bright symbols, when they charge off to attack.
Then you have those horses, you might have seen them on TV,
Or their photo in the journal with the Sheikh of Arabie
They think they are some superstar because they run around;
And mix in upper circles with heads that wear a crown.
But the good news, there are horses, that like to go for rides;
And if you never tried it, now's a good time to decide;
It doesn't matter what's your age, or if you're sad or funny,
If you are big take out a horse, if you are small, a pony.
And then just go off riding, it will keep the blues away:
Going down a country road, as the buds come out in May,
The small birds chirping in the trees, the air so crisp and clean,
So go on out and try it! And you'll see just what I mean.