Cross-country on Storm

Press, 22 September 1987, Page 14

Cross-country on Storm

By Christine Avis, aged IL of Christchurch. My lovely grey horse has started the course, Up he leaps and over the gorse. Number two is the big wide table, Jump it Storm, I know you’re able. Straight ahead looms the great A-frame, There’s one at home exactly the same. Stormboy jumps it with ’ such ease, I am very, very pleased. Over jumps four, five and six, Number seven is some bricks. Next on the course is the wooden gate, We must be up to number eight I hear splashing of water, it must be the creek, Wade through slowly — it is quite deep. Careful Storm, I felt you stumble, It’s far too cold to take a tumble. We are fast approaching number ten, Storm’s ears prick, it’s the

diamondshaped pen. I say, “Slow down Stormboy, it is the wall, If you go that fast Hl have a fall.”

Flying, flying, what a leap,

Careful, Storm, the ground is steep. Oh the thrill and the joy of a cross-country

mom, Riding along on little grey

Storm. Storm’s pace quickens, his head held high, I must not dream, I think with a sigh. Now is the double, stile and woodpile, We have been going for more than a mile. Round a sharp corner, there’s the uphill

climb, You did it, Stormboy, I knew you’d shine. Over the last jump, up so high, We must have nearly touched the sky. The cross-country’s done, we are nearing the end, Thank-you, Stormboy, you are my friend!