In The Arena

I look into his eyes, and then i'm off my feet,
He paces and paws at the ground, as if theres no defeat,
I hop in the saddle, and i'm on, him wanting to go,
But he doesnt need any signal to put on the show,
One flicker of the reins, and were out of the gate,
And the other competitors stare after us with a full, devoted...hate,
To the first barrel, he tries his best,
And I already know we are going to be faster than the rest,
Okay, so the 1st we passed, but we still have the second, and even the third,
As I feel the rhythm, we fly like a bird,
I hear the crowd in the backround, them calling my name,
With the beat of his hoofs, matching the beat of my heart,
Were past the second now, with a nice turn,
And only at 5 strides, we are at the third,
I turned him with all my might, and the crowd roars,
Then thats when I know we did it, together,
Whenever we sprint past the timer, and out of the gate,
I stop my horse and get off, feeling as light as a feather,
So you see, I love this sport, and I love it dearly,
So it's a good thing this sport comes around more than yearly!
I feel like my horse and I are one, working as a team,
So this poem can easily fit our dream,
So i guess it really is a passion, 3 barrels, 2 hearts, one dream,
I can't explain it, but when I do it... I can hardly breathe...