Storm - finest horse - you're faster than the wind -
Beautiful bay - all muscle, form, power, grace -
Gentle eyes shining - bright with boldness - kind -
And smooth and true in all of your four gaits.
Full standing - sixteen hands - with soft white blaze;-
Twelve years old - and still with power - to amaze.

Taken from the racetrack - lucky gelding -
(Seeing you had a quiet temperament)
You quickly took to riding school - excelling -
In your next life - almost like a retirement.
Not asked to do too much - except short rides;-
There's pasture here - hard feed - and treats besides.

When young and on the track, you proved your mettle -
Fleet-footed - with hot courage - in each race -
When thoroughbreds - they settle'd down to battle -
More times than not - you'd finish in a place.
Now years on - in silhouette - your grace defines;-
Equine beauty - I see in noble bloodlines.

In verse, I now pay homage to your spirit -
And in your health I take a great delight;
The time that you have left - you're free to live it -
You've a paddock and a stable for the night.
In these pastures - live your life out - Storm proud steed; -
For it's here that you have everything you need.




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