Through white foaming waters
The seahorses charge
They race for the fun of it
Breakers so large
Small as they are
Each a brave hearted stead
When tired and depleted
They rest in the weed
No jockeys to guide them
Or saddles to ride
But every seahorse
Holds their head up with pride
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem