It was the year of 42

A cold and frosty morn

Somewhere in Wyoming

A baby colt was born

His coat as black as darkness

His eyes like fiery rain

His spirit free and roaming

Across the grassy plain

As a colt he frolicked

Amongst the mighty herd

Running like the wind

As feely as a bird

The colt he grew stronger

As time crept slowly past

When certain instincts told him

His time had come at last

For he must leave his fathers herd

And go out on his own

To live and to mature

Until he was fully grown

He stayed on the grassy plains

And with each passing day

His size and beauty multiplied

In each and every way

Where he ran the earth did ring

Thunder was the noise

His hooves rang out like hammer blows

His bearing God like poise

As the years went slowly by

A colt he was no more

The few who had ever seen him

Had named this stallion Thor

With age came maturity

Instincts of long ago

Had risen to the surface

And made Thors courage grow

The time had come for this great horse

To turn and fight this day

Until one stallion either dies

Or beaten runs away

Thor stood still his head held high

His muscles tense and bold

His coat shone like a mighty gem

His eyes bright and cold

All at once with unmatched speed

With hooves and gnashing teeth

The two great stallions fought for life

Intense beyond belief

The fight went on for quite a while

And neither horse gave in

Blood poured from many wounds

As strength grew very thin

All the creatures of the plains

Stopped in sudden awe

Such a fight they’d never seen

Teeth ripped and bit and tore

All at once it ended

When one horse fell down dead

Thor stood up victorious

Held high his tired head

Thor must take his herd now

And wait until one day

When a younger, stronger horse

Will take his herd away.