He was my greatest love, never to be labeled a gentleman A magnificent creature the likes I never thought, Could exist to us mortal souls. How wrong I was, he was alive, he loved, he hated. Above all he ran, for his spirit was ever free. Like a man driven, A shadow chased by demons, Like a breath of wind a chestnut devil on a cloud. He was my inspiration my reason for living Now alas I am alone Like so many times Yet I do not grieve, for he lives in my heart, in the wind on my face. He still races under me his hooves pounding the turf My inspiration, my hopes, I still hold them close For he has given them to me, That great Thoroughbred, Man O' War. Patricia Bates 01/03/96