Chalk Horse by Diane Jackman

Carved by men in times past,

the chalk horse sleeps under

sparse grass on the heath.

Winds pass over, cut like a knife,

ripple the heather and bring

to life the horse on The Ling.

At night he knows no bounds

The moon rides up into the sky.

That is his moment to rise,

shake free his mane, his white tail ,

to gallop over the land,

unseen, unheard, unremembered.

*White horses cut out of the chalk landscape are well-known in South and West England.

This horse was recorded in the Breckland 200 years ago.

Diane Jackman’s poetry has appeared in small press magazines and anthologies, and has won or placed in several competition. Starting as a children’s writer she now concentrates on poetry. She is passionately interested in medieval rabbit warrens and Anglo-Saxon literature. She runs a poetry café in Brandon in the heart of the Breckland, England’s desert.