Last year we lost maggie through a thing called grass sickness it's coming up to the first anniversary and now i remember her with a smile a horse whisperer told me she is still with us i like to think so, she was such a big girl clysendale x this poem i wrote at the time
your rugs still hang,
your feed not eaten,
your head collar still looks scruffy and beaten,
big brown eyes,
mane like a thatch,
feet as big as meat platters and a heart to match,
your beauty was within,
your size nothing could compare,
something so powerful but gentle,
thats why they smiled and stared,
now your stable stands empty,
your hay still lays there,
your tack hangs idle, everywhere is just bare,
but one day when we think, they'll be a smile on our face,
but one thing maggie, you we cannot replace
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