A Poem

 The field that's their home was going quite bare,
they spend all their days just eating out there.

 It's time to move to far greener fields,
before the grass they're eating finally yields.

 So off we went, halters in hand
to move the gang to a new bit of land.

 The two gray horses ran up to be caught
"Who was to be first?" was why they fought.

 Gathered and standing they watched while in hand,
whilst I pursued  my horse Ranger.  A cranky old man.

 "The grass is still here and I want to stay."
Said he "for at least one more night and maybe a day."

  "Ranger" said I "It's time you should go.
I don't want to chase you when it starts to snow."

 "No" said the old horse "And that is how I feel
I am not leaving this place today Beel"

 So I went in pursuit of the crusty old horse,
me trudging along and him running, of course.

 The sun was bright and the weather was warm,
and the old horse was moving with very good form.

 His thick winter coat would shimmer and flash
with each step he took in this "for freedom dash".

 So close I could get at the end of each sprint
I could darn near touch him 'fore again off he went.

 I stayed in pursuit "I'll sure make you work
If you keep on running you evil old jerk."

 At last he stopped, and he spoke with a snort-
and he put on his halter, I'm glad to report.

 To the new field we took them and then set them free.
One more day in the life, 'twix Ranger and me.

Bill