That Moment of Stillness
Poetry
That Moment of Stillness
It would happen every time.
We all experience it
no matter what saddle we stride.
I am high on Cotswold.
If I look to my left
Over my shoulder, slightly,
upon the Malvern Hills,
The clouds sit lightly,
Emphasising the backbone
of these Islands.
We have cantered,
Worked the Serpentine,
As we leave its safety and discipline
Our step is light, even delicate,
Purposeful and deliberate.
My heel touches featherlike,
Her head throws back in expectation,
That snort of approval!
We leave the Serpentine.
No more Eights today, Beauty
We’ve done well!
You’ve taught me how better
to move with you.
To sit tall.
To allow my frame to merge with your frame
The two become one…
Well, you’re a slow learner!
Yep, I know!!
Okay. Shall we?
The long grass looks dangerous
But from where we are,
Our footing is sure,
Our stride deliberate.
Now, for a moment, we rest.
The one rein trails.
We are perfectly still.
Her sureness of breathing
gives not the vaguest hint
at the speed and distance
We have both just covered.
Now we rest still.
We each listen to the Wind.
Our return will have the wind behind us,
It’s strong today
which means mane in my face
tail around my thigh.
Her senses are way beyond mine.
The Kite circles high,
Two in fact.
A Hare watches close by.
Amused or bemused,
sniffing my beauty on the air,
then that shrill…
Gone! Like a ghost
through a wall.
The Kite tails off
then soars in thermalistic fashion.
The two rejoin.
They circle
and move further across.
I think a man and his friend
upset their hunting routine!
She turns to gaze
Only her neck is arced,
I see the heartbeat
Perfect.
The Kites fly higher.
Some concealed communication
That humankind is not privy.
If they were they would only exploit it.
How wonderful
to see Nature in action.
To see them coral another
part of this vast Ride.
Their absence
returns the beautiful song,
The Lark high above me
Serenading again.
If ever a sound makes
me quiver with childish delight
it is the Lark.
A snort.
What? Impatient to return are we?
Oh well, come on Beauty.
The stillness takes one step,
then two,
then four.
Another gentle snort of anticipation.
Come on Girl!
Let’s race the wind again!
15 October 2025
All Rights Reserved
LIVERPOOL
© 2023 Ian Bradley Marshall
Digital Artwork by IBM KTW
First Written 28 September 2023
Ken Webb is a writer and proofreader. His website, kennwebb.com, showcases his work as a writer, blogger and podcaster, resting on his successive careers as a police officer, progressing to a junior lawyer in succession and trusts as a Fellow of the Institute of Legal Executives, a retired officer with the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, and latterly, for three years, the owner and editor of two lifestyle magazines in Liverpool.
He also just handed over a successful two year chairmanship in Gloucestershire with Cheltenham Regency Probus.
Pandemic aside, he spends his time equally between his city, Liverpool, and the county of his birth, Gloucestershire.
In this fast-paced present age, proof-reading is essential. And this skill also occasionally leads to copy-editing writers’ manuscripts for submission to publishers and also student and post graduate dissertations.
