To the Artist's Page                    To our home page

To Melvin Sandberg's previous piece     To Melvin Sandberg's next piece

The Orphan Foal

The mare became restless four hours past midnight;
A full moon was shining upon Thompson's farm,
And there in the barn 'neath the silvery moonlight
She dropped her foal gently to do him no harm.

She licked fetal membrane from nose and mouth quickly
So that the young foal would be able to breathe,
Then dried his wet coat working surely and swiftly
With love and affection no man could conceive.

Then giving her foal a soft motherly greeting,
Exhausted she staggered and fell on her side;
He tottered beside her, her welcome repeating,
And watched as she gazed at him fondly and died.

Tom came to the barn at the first light of dawning
And found the colt lying beside the dead mare;
Tears streamed down his face on that hot summer morning,
He knew that the foal needed food, love and care.

He got some goat's milk and diluted with water,
He poured in a bottle with nipple on top;
He fed him three ounces once every two hours
And waited until the foal's sucking did stop.

He marveled how quickly the foal had developed,
He could see and hear, even walk, in one day;
He whinnied and trotted and friskily galloped,
And whisked his long tail as he chased flies away.

He slept and he rested for half of each hour,
And most of the time he lay down on the grass'
In only four months he grazed in a green bower.
Tom watched and his mind traveled back to the past.

He thought of the times he had rode the foal's mother,
The long happy hours they had romped on the earth;
He thought of the mare he had loved as no other
And wondered why she had to die giving birth.

To the top of this page