How I Long For That Time Again

For all the stablemen who fought and were used to riding out on their local heaths.

How I Long For That Time Again

It wasn’t so bad, it really wasn’t,
those early morning starts,
the wind in your face as you galloped on by.
How I long for that time again.

We rode up the lane on our way to the heath,
Saw only paper boys and milkmen doing their rounds.
yet still the village sleeps.
How I long for that time again.

Our workout done back to the stable we go,
shouts of ‘morning’ ringing in our ears.
Breakfast calls before the next lots out.
How I long for that time again

All I ever hear now are shouts and screams,
explosions everywhere.
Will I ever again see my beloved heath?
How I long for that time again.

Written by Susan Howlett

in memory of Alan Farr