Golden Dream

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It was a quiet and somewhat sultry day,

They moved as a team that was plain,

For Joanne rode Goldie, her very special friend,

Along the narrow countryside lane. 


As a horse he was at the very top of the tree,

And at the top of the milk he was the cream!

With such a wonderfully sounding name,

The irrepressible 'Golden Dream'.


They were thinking, as they rode, of their former days,

When they had won just everything in sight,

Because, in any riding competition,

This pair put up a very good fight.


They loved it best when they galloped at speed.

As a partnership they were very well Ďgelledí,

Leaving the others so far behind,

Because Goldie ran, as if jet propelled.


Team chase had to be their favourite sport.

And Goldie would go off like a shot.

Up hill, down dale, didnít make any odds,

For Goldie was certainly red hot.


It wasnít only on straight courses, you know.

For he could always take a very good bend.

They loved each other so very much,

And couldnít see a time when it would end.


But it was on this day that our Joanne,

Had something very special to say,

So she bent from the saddle, whispering into Goldieís ear,

"Dear Goldie, Iíve got to go away."


"The time has come to extend my career,

And so in the City of London I must stay.

My sister Emma will look after you,

And Iíll think of you every day."


"Donít think that youíre forgotten, dear Goldie,

Youíll still be so very close to my heart,

And Iíll come home as often as I can.

Itíll be as if we were never apart!"


Goldie took it so well for he understood,

He really appreciated the score.

It wasnít as if Jo had sold him on,

And didnít want to ride him anymore.


But then came the news that was so hard to take.

The farm owners had caused quite a fuss.

"Your Goldieís beginning to look very gaunt,

And heís not a good advert for us!"


"Youíll have to move him to another farm.

Alternatively you could put him down.

When our prospective customers look at him,

They hurry on back to the town."


This was a severe blow to the family,

To Jo and Goldie, already apart.

It really is  my supposition

That this rejection tore Goldie apart.


From that moment on Goldie went into decline,

And he wore a weary perpetual frown,

Until Jo was finally given the news,

That her Goldie would have to be put down.


So Goldie spent his very last moments with Jo,

Before he went on his heavenly way.

Jo told Goldie just how much she loved him,

And that she would see him again one day.


She held his head so close in her arms,

And gently stroked each of his ears,

As she whispered sweet nothings to Goldie,

Whilst her face was coursed with tears.


Goldie sighed and turned his tired face,

Towards Jo, as if to say,

"I understand what youíre saying, Jo,

And Iíll never be far away."


"Just pretend when you go back to London,

That Iím gambolling here, in the fields of Devon,

After all, if weíve got to be apart.

Does it matter if Iím happy in heaven?"


"Up there it won't be pitilessly commercial,

The farm owners had no style and less grace

And those who condemned and rejected me,

Will probably end up in an alternative place!"


And  now Goldie is running at his usual speed,

Far far away and really up high.

If you look up long and hard enough,

You'll see him streaking across the sky.


So Jo, you'll not worry when your time comes.

Although leaving loved ones will be sad,

Because youíll see Question Mark and Goldie again,

And, alongside them, your mum and dad.


And all your friends from long ago,

And all your family too,

Some of whom youíll hardly know,

Whoíll be introduced to you.


But Goldie this poem is written for you,

A final and a very fitting farewell,

Although no longer in your earthly form,

In our hearts and minds, you still surely dwell.


By Tu Gether.

 jo.jpg (12618 bytes)

Dedicated to Goldie and my daughter, Joanne.

Author: Trevor Durbidge  Copyright © 2001 [TJD].   All rights reserved.    Revised: October 30, 2007 . 

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