Our Poet Laureate

It appears that Summerhill’s Stallion Manager, GREG MUIR, has a few literary talents tucked up his sleeve. When asked who his favorite stallion was he promptly referred to Charlie. (I see a few of you flicking through your latest brochure … I was as puzzled as you if it’s any consolation).

Greig has written a poem which he has dedicated “to Charlie and those few unappreciated ‘Teasers’ that get little thanks for the job they do.” 

It’s a brilliant - and rare - insight into the life of a horse who doesn’t get the recognition that the boys in the glossy brochure do.

CHARLIE

Hither here, hither there
They search for me, Charlie everywhere
For now that the season has come
Those boys can’t do much until the teasing is done

All them maiden’s, they’re so neat
Those big stallions think not so sweet
They go about giving a sniff and a lick
And end up getting a hell of a kick

Now for the job, it’s a mighty skill
You need to be smart, good looking and fit the bill
Now it’s time for me to turn the tables
As I stroll past those stallions in their stables

They can smell them maiden’s and it makes them cry
And what’s worse, they see the twinkle in my eye
There she is, bandaged and clean
I don’t understand, she don’t look so mean

The handler’s are trembling and looking so grave
Don’t worry lads, I’m real brave
Here come the hobbles, I ask for them not
I don’t want a maiden tied in a knot

They tell me next, she can be a bitch
And insist for my safety, they put on a twitch
Don’t worry lads, I’m always right
This lady ain’t ‘gonna give me a fight

Here we go, I can sense her fear
Don’t worry Miss, I’ll be a dear
Gently with my shoulder, then my muzzle
I work her over, a non stop nuzzle

Being so small, I reach forearms and thighs
But this lovely Babe, with pleasure she cries
When I’m on the job, I do not dither
I work my way around, wither to wither

Before the jobs done, I hear a roar
Whats happening, it’s from the back door?
Then what the hell, I’m dragged out
Back to my pen, without a shout

At the end of the day, when the job is done
As with all jobs it has its fun
As a stallion, I’m not mean
I work the chicks like a dream