The Peppermint Major

A poem by

Jill Martin

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2009 Jill Martin

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Sleepy-eyed sunbeams alight on the fell,

Dewdrops give spark to each heather-clad dell,

Purposeful wander, my path sure and true,

I make my way up to where he will be too.

Rounding the outcrop my senses are clear,

Mustn’t alarm him or cause him to fear,

And just like the last time and each time before,

Sight of his dignity fills me with awe.

On distant hilltop he stands quite alone,

Tugging the tussocks that no man has sown,

Sky-silhouetted, neck stooping to feed,

Gracefully grazing, magnificent steed.

Mankind-oblivious, heedless of me,

Slowly meandering there fetter-free,

A click of the tongue, his head rises high,

An arrogant sniff as eyes mirror the sky.

I rustle a paper and call out his name,

The ears know my voice and he snorts a refrain,

Flicking his mane against backcloth of blue;

Why should I come all that way just for you?

I hold out my hand with the palm to the sun,

Revealing a dot of white sugary fun,

He scents it, he knows it, a snort of disdain,

But starts his descent to my low leafy lane.

All I can hear is the rhythmical thud,

Hooves trotting over the grass-covered mud,

Soft boot-brown eyes watching me as we greet,

In anticipation of peppermint treat.

Softly I murmur, he hears as I speak,

Warmly his muzzle caressing my cheek,

Breath gently wafting my face as I stand,

Letting me stroke his fine neck with my hand.

Then I must bend to his indignant sighs,

And flat on my hand I give over his prize,

He savours the moment, a slow crunching treat,

No longer alert but a slave to a sweet.

Thus do I start each new day of my life,

A redolent moment that banishes strife,

Opens my soul as it frees me from care,

My Peppermint Major I love to feed there.