CYBERFOAL.COM
1997 - 2007
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I am Pleased to present my working companion the horse, for all to enjoy in 'Equine Rhyme'.
Equine Rhyme. Enchanted Acres. This magical place so tranquil and serene, a place where my horse is resting unseen. The trust you gave, I can never repay, for my loss of you is a fond memory today. Peter J. Hurst
Big Ben. From beginning to end a jumper be,now you can jump for as far as you see. You gave us great joy in all you achieved, the thought of loosing you never conceived. But now you are gone, our tears must subside, for you gave a Nation excitement and pride. The memory you leave is precious to all, you’ll not be forgotten, dear friend so tall. Peter J. Hurst Racehorse. You were always a horse that wanted to run, nothing would stop you once you begun. You are now with others that have done the same, your run to the roses has been proclaimed. Now my friend you can rest, with others that have done their best. Our memory of you will always remain, with a tear in our eye, and heart felt pain. Peter J. Hurst War Horse.Our horse has survived the centuries past, a pat on the neck was all they asked. Who are we to pass them by, without a care or worthy sigh. Was not the horse a prominent roll, for us they gave and paid the toll. Peter J. Hurst Dressage Horse.A horse that performs with majestic pride, with every step that floats in stride. The horse and rider poised as one, is proof of how these two are one. Peter J. Hurst Departed.A foal is born then taken away, to enchanted acres, were all foals play. The mare she grieves, but will take another, please give her this chance to be a mother. Peter J. Hurst The Horse Horses are what horses be,they are no match for you and me. A horse will do what ever is asked, and always complete that difficult task. The horse will do for little or none, while we go on to think we won. Peter J. Hurst Making a Stand.A foal is born alone one night, who struggles to stand and stay upright. With mother resting to observe, her foal continues with its fight. With strength and determination be, this little foal will stand you see. With mother looking and gives a sigh, her foal is standing for her and I. Peter J. Hurst Weanlings. From foals to weanlings they become, it’s time to say good-bye to mom. With much confusion and sad refrain, as weanlings they will meet again. Without their moms they are lost, but time will heal before the frost. Then all together they will be, one big happy family Peter J. HurstFoals at Play. In the field the foals do play, what joy it is to see each day. A race horse, jumper show horse be, which one out there will it be. Not too many have this chance, to see the future at a glance. Peter J. Hurst Breaking The time has come to break a friend,a time for both to be unsure. A time to trust, a time to share, a time to be without despair. A day, a week , a month is fine, a horse will learn in its own time. There is no point to rush this scene, for the end result is better seen. Peter J. HurstStallion. The joy you gave in times gone by, dear friend, companion and ally. You were an ear to listen in times of need, how fortunate was I for such a steed. Your name continues in those you sired, a memory of you to be admired. Peter J. Hurst Moving On.The horse van arrives in the early dawn, as I load the horses and give a yawn. There going to a place where they can see, how good these horses are going to be. The time has come to say good-bye, as I watch them leave, with a tearful eye. I hear them calling to those in the barn, a call is returned from all on the farm. There on the road and on their way, they know not where they’re going to stay. I’ll miss this group I raised from young, but they’ll be back in months to come. Peter J. Hurst Changing Places.If we love our horses as we say, why then are they others prey. A horse asks little but love and respect, for they bare no grudge or disrespect. They do not care for color of skin, or what beliefs we have within. For every language that we convey, our horses know the words we say. If we were they and they were we, who’s to say how life would be. Peter J. Hurst My Dot.Dot to Dot my special mare, with no more foals for her to bare. She is retired from this point on, and has two daughters to carry on. One is jumping like her mom, and doing well as she had done. The other is waiting to be a mom, and knows not what there is to come. For Dot and I we were a pair, a memory now that we both share. Her time now spent to graze the field, my Dot to me, my shinning shield. Peter J. Hurst Orphans acclaim.I’m proud of my horse that had a rough start, my thanks to those that gave him a chance. There are no words for me to say, that gave me my champion of to day. With many awards of National acclaim, including his Legion of Merit and Supreme. With Legion of excellence that he has earned. We have been together for ten long years. This horse of rejection so long ago, is my wonderful horse called Touch N Go. Peter J. Hurst The Price We Pay. What price we pay for horses owned, a fortune spent on them alone. A saddle a bridle are items of need, with a blanket and leg wraps and books that we read. The experts are ready to teach and explain, the common sense rules that should be quite plain. A vet, a farrier and plenty of feed, is also important to our horses need. The choice to ride and compete with friends, means entries and transport, which never ends. The prize is little , yet we suffice, to continue on with our equine vice. Peter J. Hurst
The Compliment. Our horses know not what we ask, and yet we assume they know the task. A horse is as good as the one that leads, if he who leads with good intent, our horses receive a compliment. If he who leads with selfish intent, It is he that takes the compliment. Peter J. HurstMorning Son. The barn is quiet in the early morn, a time when foals are often born. A mare is down about to foal, with feet and head already shown. A filly, a colt will soon be known, the mare she takes a breath or two. It’s time to push the shoulders through, now the hardest part is done. A foal is born to the rising sun. Peter J. Hurst Our Land The cowboy is our guide in the west, for he and his horse know it best. He does not fear the rocky terrain, or the flat and dusty desert plain. The cowboy knows that with his horse, the land he rides is his resource. Peter J. Hurst
Our Horse, Our Joy. A horse gives joy to everyone, to those that ride them just for fun. Those that race a quarter mile, and others that do it Kentucky style. There’s also ones that trot and pace, and teams with wagons that love to race. We also watch them run a steer, and buck a cowboy with no fear. We see them jump a fence and wall, and battle the breeds for best of all. With elegance and rhythm we admire, their magical movement they inspire. Their strength they show in what they pull, from cannons to carriage they do it all. Peter J. Hurst Thieves. A horse is taken from the field one night, by hands of strangers without plight. How bold are they to take a horse, those who are without remorse. If they could trust, as those they steal, they just might find an honest deal. Peter J. Hurst 25 years; have horses been, appearing at this equine scene. From millions of fans that visit each year, to the highest of dignitaries and stars that appear. The people attend for the excitement it brings, this place of horses and equestrians. A dream once thought, that has come true, this dream of a family that shares with you. The glory of horses and all they portray, of the past to the present we celebrate today. We hail a cheer to how far you have come, thank you Spruce Meadows for all you have done. Peter J. Hurst
Through the eyes of a horse. Through the eyes of a horse my life should be, for who is the luckiest them or me. It is they that see the beauty around, and I that see the greed to be found. A horse can see the pastures green, but for I it is a developers dream. With scenery as far as their eye can see, who is the luckiest them or me. For what they see there is no doubt, that man’s intrusion will soon loose out. O’ to see through the eyes of a horse, that I should see their same resource. Peter J. Hurst
A time to leave. There is a time when horses die, and also a time for you and I. To wish one day that we shall be, all together in tranquility. But for the choices we must make, the life of a horse we sometimes take. When all that fails to make them well, it is hard to say a fond farewell. But we can choose to end their pain, when for us it is a waiting game. Peter J. Hurst.
Horse people: The people with horses are an odd ball crowd, but for me as one I am so proud. For we know too well what each of us do, and enjoy the company of a horse or two. We sit and talk to what we enjoy, and speak little to others that share not our joy. To mix and mingle outside this scene, is a time for us to merely dream. For we do not know how people survive, without a horse in their daily lives. Peter J. Hurst. Betrayal. We love our horses or so we say, but how many horses do we betray. The trust they give is honest and true, something we find so difficult to do. We care for those that are close, but for others we care little to boast We love our horses or so we say, so why so many do we betray. Peter J. Hurst
A Broken Bond
A healthy foal is born one night,
to nurse and play as most foals might.
But for an act of God should be,
these two shall remain in harmony.
As time goes by their bond is strong,
until one day the mare is gone,
Through no fault of each can be,
or that of natures will to see.
he mare is taken to serve another,
and her foal is given to a foster mother.
Neither knows the reason why,
a healthy foal is left to cry.
With natural instincts now confused,
two hearts are broken as if abused.
Peter J. Hurst.
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