My first pony came to me at Thanksgiving
When I’d just celebrated thirty eight years.
I never imagined at fifty
Thirteen ponies would be my peers.
How I got to lucky thirteen
Is a question I often ponder.
I owe it all to Fell Ponies
For whom I continue to grow fonder.
I started with a little grade pony,
And I’m still totally in love.
She taught me about versatility
And to cherish the teamster’s glove.
Another work pony entered my life,
Followed quickly by my first two Fells.
Suddenly I was four-times thankful
As I came under all of their spells.
I began to explore Fell history
And to investigate the present of the breed.
Many dimensions of stewardship
Manifested about this rare steed.
My herd changed and grew in reaction.
Cumbrian ponies joined Colorado-born.
Each one made me more thankful
To awaken each Rocky Mountain morn’.
Breeding these ponies has shifted for me
From boy-meets-girl to something much more.
Beyond hair and color and thrift and bone,
There’s so much more to be striving for.
Cumbrian breeders have patiently taught me
Through word and flesh and deed
And they have made me exceedingly thankful
For their stewardship of the breed.
Right now it’s traditional movement
That focuses my studying time.
It requires every body part to be just right.
Seeing the real thing is quite sublime.
I am thankful for all thirteen ponies
For what they have taught me these last several years.
I look forward to many more lessons
Long before my next decade nears.