Man O' War
Full of fire, made of flame;
Burned the ground he raced upon.
This legend of the racetrack,
A horse of the Apocalypse.
Shattered records left and right
And broke the colts he raced against.
Only time itself was left to fight.
He snuffed the wind, inhaled the heat;
Hot blood coursing through his veins
From the sands of time, the dry foothills
Of deserts and of scorching sun,
The descendant of the sun horse, Sham,
Who scalded the earth with his brazen speed;
His feet drumming, heart kept pounding,
Made of no more than wind and flame.
Here was a horse! None stood before
This machine of flesh, so merciless.
John P. Grier, On Watch, Wildair
Golden Broom and Donaconna;
All fell before this intrepid vision
Who knew no bounds and had no limits.
He was left to race himself and time
With speed seemingly infinite.
He couldn't be stopped;
He couldn't be beat;
He stays still now only in death.
Never before, then or since
Has a champion come forth
That matches the splendor of this stead,
Nor the perfection of this horse!
For record books still tell the tale
Of all the marks he set in stone.
He never lost, he never quit
And he was never fully done.
No eye could tell the tale they saw
If this horse had actually run.
Twenty-one starts; Twenty wins,
From nineteen eighteen to nineteen twenty;
A Thoroughbred, and then some;
Seven foot high and around two ton.
He beat Sir Barton to a standstill,
And lost only once to Upset.
To see him run was quite a thrill.
Real he was, a legend yet.
And once his brilliant campaign had ceased,
He bequeathed his fire to his children,
And for thirty years they came home
Covered in glory and adulation!
So, bring your Nashuas and Whirlaways!
Bring your Equipoises and Citations!
They cannot compare;
Nor could they give much more
Than the champion who raised the mark,
The turf king, Man O'War!
from 'Maiden Voyage'©kakarigeikogirl