Gallant At Last Gate

So, gallant rides again, bestows

in gracing, a nod to confidence,

astride on trust, gallops wildly,

rampant, colours waving,

votive with a shield to favour just.

Pennant at the ready, legs astriding

more powerful, more honourable

than he, the carried carried

by the patient equine, no

pure-bred here but mighty

mustang, steed, alert to all

antiquity, his forebears,

those donkeys, mules,

a brethren yoked from yore,

mighty carries meagre

in his tidings, the faithful breed,

the yeoman evermore, till

fence or hedge or obstacle

just too high, an ask

to task a barrier too far,

rears he up, resists insistent

urging, refuses at the gate,

bronco at core, wild at heart,

never more a gelding,

impatient hooves aspark’d

upon cement, ride your horses,

oh ye gallant gentry, on softer ground

or risk unseating,

ungentlemanly government.