from our sight, but never from our memories ~
Gone from our touch, but never our hearts."
is a drawing my husband did for me of my Arabian, Tony, my friend of many years.
Tony passed away at 32 years of age. He was a crazy 4 years old when I got him.
The drawing was my Christmas present the Christmas after Tony passed away.
My husband drew it from an old photograph, as a surprise.
He framed and matted it with an antique barn board frame.
can last a lifetime, but sometimes a lifetime can last only one more day.
This photo appeared on the cover of the 'Trail Riders Of DuPage'
publication shortly after Tony passed away.
My friend is the editor. She retired Fizz with us.
Tony & Fizz traveled my trails together when they were young and crazy.
It was nice that they could be reunited.
Constant Companions for 28 Years
Memory of Tony
noble steed faithfully kept,
taught you to listen and to see,
you say your faithful companion
served you as no other,
A few have joined our herds of old,
And now are members too,
They have a home to call their own.
Till they join the ghost riders of the night.
still return to trails less trodden.
ęCopyright 2000, A. Olsen.
snow white steed
2000, A. Olsen.
Memory of Tony
October 23, 2002
My snow white friend has passed
through the mist,
Joining the ghost riders of the night.
~ A. Olsen ~
ęCopyright 2002, A. Olsen. All Rights Reserved.
swift as the flowing wind.
Shadowfax they called him.
By day his coat glistens like silver;
and by night it is like a shade,
and he passes unseen.
Light is his footfall!
~ J.R.R. Tolkien ~
I am your equal.
I am a wild creature that can never be like you.
I have heart, courage, and the game spirit
that is my heritage, and I will be respected.
I will be taught and I will please,
and maybe in time I will be your intimate.
But I will never be your possession.
Mine is a fierce love which knows no mercy for failure,
no sympathy for weakness.
I have come from the desert
with its closeness to the spirit of nature
which you do not understand.
I was born of the wind,
mine is a warrior spirit.
I cannot be humiliated in punishment.
Or defeated even in death
For my spirit lives on in my children's children.
Tribute to a Confederate Grey
General Robert E. Lee's Horse
Traveller was used by General Robert E. Lee throughout
most of the Civil War. The
iron gray horse was born in 1857 in Greenbrier County, which is now in West Virginia.
He was first called Jeff Davis by Andrew Johnston, who raised him. He was renamed
Greenbrier by his next owner, Captain Joseph M. Broun. Lee bought the horse from
Capt. Broun for $200 during his late 1861 stay in South Carolina. Lee renamed his new
mount Traveller. Traveller, who weighed about eleven hundred pounds and stood nearly
sixteen hands high, served his master well. He outlived General Lee, and upon his death
he was buried next to the Lee Chapel. In 1907 his remains were disinterred and displayed
at the Chapel for a period of time before reburied on the front campus outside the Lee Chapel.
The best description of Traveller was Lee's own, which
he wrote in response to
Mrs. Lee's cousin Markie Williams, who wished to paint a portrait of Lee's horse. 'Traveller':
"If I was an artist like you, I would draw a true picture of Traveller;
representing his fine proportions, muscular figure, deep chest,
short back, strong haunches, flat legs, small head, broad forehead,
delicate ears, quick eye, small feet, and black mane and tail.
Such a picture would inspire a poet, whose genius could then
depict his worth, and describe his endurance of toil, hunger, thirst,
heat and cold; and the dangers and suffering through which he
has passed. He could dilate upon his sagacity and affection, and
his invarible response to every wish of his rider. He might even
imagine his thoughts through the long night-marches and days of
the battle through which he has passed. But I am no artist Markie,
and can therefore only say he is a Confederate grey."
~ General Robert E. Lee ~
The drumbeat surging thru my blood,
Is the sound of the horses, ridden by my ancestors,
Horseman riding thru the past.
Let the drums sound.
~ A.Olsen ~
you lay me to slumber no spot you can choose
But will ring to the rhythm of galloping shoes
And under the daisies no grave be so deep
But the hoofs of the horses shall sound in my sleep.
(From the poem "The Hoofs of the Horses" by Will Ogilvie, Australian poet)
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This site was created in 1999-2009 by Ann Olsen ęCopyright 1999-2012, Ann Olsen. All Rights Reserved.
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