Untitled

Press, 20 February 1979, Page 16

By young readers

SANDAREE

With fiery eyes and glistening njane, She roams the dismal plain, And if you saw her carefree face, You’d wish she was your own. For she’s the queen of all mustangs, As wild as wild can be, That beautiful, beautfful, wondrous marc. That graceful Sandaree. Her coat is a glistening satin black, She wears it like a gown, Her tail is white just like her mane, Which glows as the sun goes down. A man if ever he sees her, Would immediately fall in love, But if he tries to catch her, She disappears like a wild black dove But Sandaree no longer lives, I must regretfully say, For oned a man did catch her, And she died at the light of day. Jacqueline Weld, aged 11.

RIDING

It was a cold and crisp morning The horse fresh and frisky Fun in the air Kick here buck there. Snort, snort, snort. Ready to go One kick and a slap A jolt, a rear, Off we ride A walk, a trot, clip, clop, clip clop. Legs prancing here and there Hair behind me Like waves in the sea Hands at the reins Feet in the stirrups Moving, moving up and down. Riding on to meet the dawn Curious, wondering, thinking what the day holds in store Riding, riding on and on. Wendy Clement, aged 11.

TIGGER

Tigger is a cat A male cat Very furry A tiny bit tricky. He grunts while he sleeps Jumps off the washing machine. Tigger My cat. Simon Howarth, aged 7.