Here's a true story from my childhood days - followed by another true story written as a poem.                                          

                             WHITE MARE ON ELM STREET

                                      

I swear my Dad invented Jim Royle’s catchphrase “My Arse!” When I was

a child I thought the expression was part of the English language

In fact if you know Jim from the Royle family, you know my dad, he was  

Jim Royle, but with a work ethic.

I don’t remember being bored when I was a young girl, I always found

ways to amuse myself, usually out on the cobbled back street either skipping

or throwing a ball against a high brick wall and catching it. On one of these

occasions   my attention was diverted by a strange sound. I must have been

around five years old and this is one of my enduring childhood memories.

Along the bottom of the cobbles ran Elm Street which led on to Colne road,

a busy main road. From the back street could be heard the distant rumble

of traffic travelling along Colne road and occasionally the rumble would

become a loud roar as a car turned left off the main road into Elm Street.

On this particular evening, a new sound emerged amongst the distant rumble

of the traffic. At first it was barely audible but as it approached it gradually

got louder and louder. I stood and watched, curiously waiting to find out what

was making the noise.

It started as a soft sort of clattering noise like someone wearing big, heavy high heels.

It got steadily louder until into my view appeared a magnificent sight. I gazed in

wonder as a huge white horse with a rider sitting, proudly aloft, passed by the end

of the cobbled street and the clattering noise faded away again.

I was totally fascinated and strangely excited by the spectacle. Over the next few

days I noticed that the same thing happened at around the same time every day

and I would find myself waiting with great anticipation

 After about a week of this, I could stand the suspense no longer and a crazy plan

started to form in my little head.

I waited and waited for the moment when I could put my plan into action then
the day arrived. I waited and waited then eventually the soft clatter could be heard in
the distance. Horse and rider came into view and I was off!

 I chased the horse along Elm Street On and on I ran, all my energy andconcentration 
focused on the black outline of the rider seated on that magnificent beast. Although I 
continued to run at full speed, the gap between me and the horse began to widen.

I kept on running, I couldn’t let them get away now I’d come this far. Idon’t know how 
long I ran for but somehow they got away, the silhouetteof horse and rider vanished over
the brow of a hill and the clatteringbecame softer and softer until I could hear it no more.

Not only had I lost sight of my horse and my bold plan to ask if  I could have a ride

but now I had a new and more immediate problem. I was totally lost! Theunfamiliar
landscape which just moments ago had seemed so inviting, now looked frightening and 
mysterious, green hedges lined with trees, rapidly descending intohalf light as the sun faded.
I spun around on my heels and surveyed the strange and unfamiliar landscape I could feel 
my tiny heart pounding against my chest, partly from running, partly from fear and partly
from wondering   what   my mum and dad would say when they found out where I’d been.

Why had I chased that stupid horse up here? I had to get home, but how?

With incredible clarity of mind I decided that even though I hadn’t a cluewhere I was, if 
I started running in the opposite direction to the one thatbrought me here I would 
eventually recognise something familiar  

The return journey was the complete opposite to the exciting adventure which

 had brought me here, full of terror and uncertainty, all I wanted to do was get back to that 
familiar cobbled Street.

Oh! the feeling of relief   when, eventually I came upon a street that I recognisedbut the feeling
was short-lived, soon to be replaced with the fear of facing my mumand dad and trying to 
explain where I’d been. I was sure they’d be out franticallysearching for me by now, I must 
have been missing for hours. Finally I turned onto those WONDERFUL cobbles. No sign 
of my frantic mum and dad. With great trepidation Ilifted the latch on our green gate, walked 
around the bend in the yard and opened the heavy, black kitchen door.

As I entered the kitchen, I heard laughter coming from the front room; I walked up the corridor 
on trembling legs and into the room where my mum and dad were sat by a roaring fire, 
chattering happily. My mum looked up as I entered;

“Oh hello” she said, casually, “I was just coming

 to call you in, what’ve you been doing?”

“Oh….er….playing with me ball” I replied, half truthfully.

Relief swept over me, nobody knew about my crime, and nobody ever did, until now that is.

At some point I must have told my mum about the recurring horse visionand I must have 
given her the inclination that I was excited about it because one afternoon she said 
she had something exciting to tell me.

Apparently she’d been talking to Eileen from the chippy on Elm Street and it had transpired 
during the conversation that Eileen worked in riding stables on Manchester Road and she’d
told my mum that I could go with her one day and help her to ‘muck’ the stables out.

“Would you like to go with her?” she asked....... Would I!

Well! For the next couple of weeks I ate, slept and dreamt those stables. Finally the great 
day arrived. Clad in my new stretchy slacks and shiny wellies, I clung tightly to the carrier 
bag containing my picnic and waited anxiously for the door bell to ring.

I boarded the bus with Eileen and she chatted away happily about what she did at the
stables. I don’t think I said a lot, I was very shy but it was worth going through the pain of 
being with this virtual stranger to get to see a horse up close.

I’ll never forget, the wonderful smell of horse manure as we trudged along the muddy, winding 
path leading to the stables. Eileen opened a big gate and I followed her in to a massive yard, 
the stones crunched under our feet as we made our way in to that magical place. I looked up in
awe at a massive head peering out over a gate. The jaws went from side to side as it munched on a clump of hay. It stopped chewing momentarily and gazed curiously at me, I stared into the huge
shiny eyes and felt I would burst with happiness. My love of horses had begun.

After a long day filled with new sensations, including back – breaking work, every minute of which, 
I adored, Eileen stunned me with the biggest surprise of all;

“Would you like to ride on one?” she asked.

How much excitement can one child take in a day?

Sat on that horse with the leather saddle creaking and the jangling bit on the bridle, soft leather 
reins clutched in my tiny fingers and the warm, horsy smell in my nostrils, the clattering sound 
came from beneath me now not from a distance, I felt like a princess! Life doesn’t get much 
better than this.

When I arrived home my mum and dad wanted to know all about my day and I had so much 
to tell them that my words were falling over each other, they laughed, I think they could tell I’d 
had a good day.

When all the excitement died down, I remembered something important that I needed to ask my dad.

“Can I go for horse riding lessons? Eileen said she’d take me.”

“And how much is that going to cost?” asked my dad.

“Seven and six” I replied

[1] “Seven and six? Seven and bloody six?” he repeated,

 “Horse riding my arse!”

---

[1] seven and six: equivalent of  37 pence

                                                              UNBRIDLED JOY

I’ve never seen a horse so black

Overwhelmed, must sit on her back

And ride around that field so free

No saddle no bridle, just Diana and me

Alongside the fence she stands

Over I climb and with both hands

Grab her mane and with all my might

Pull myself over and hold on tight

There I sit excited and dazed

She lowers her head and continues to graze

Come on Diana I urge her on

She doesn’t take a step, not one.

I dig my heels into her sides

Hoping to go for a gentle ride

She pauses and lifts her head, at last!

Then snorts…and continues to nibble the grass.

You’re lovely, I coax, gently patting her neck

But Diana’s just not in the mood for a trek

I get the message and slide to the ground

Diana continues her munching sound

I clamber the fence but I’m still feeling fine

For a whole ten minutes that horse was MINE

On my way to school the following day

The farmer’s daughter was coming my way

I want a word with you she screamed

My heart stopped dead or so it seemed

My dad saw you yesterday, she said

I looked at her blankly and scratched my head

Sitting on Diana’s back

She spoke of my non-existent hack

Oh yeah well, I meekly replied

She was by the fence and I fancied a ride

Well it was a stupid thing to do

I didn’t reply I suppose it was true

What did you think you were playing at?

Climbing onto a horse like that?

I just wanted a ride I repeated

She shook her head and looked defeated

Then suddenly I was rudely awoken

She exclaimed, That horse has never been broken

Oh I gasped, well I didn’t know

I felt myself shaking from head to toe

Now the sight of a horse never fails to remind

Me of Diana, so gentle and kind