In the convoluted recesses of My Smiling memory Prances a proud stud horse I can still hear the syncopated cadence of his hooves Trotting through the milky way at night And witness the blue black shimmer of his taut coat Like moon rays on a high tide Grandpa called him Charlie Walker Powerful yes puissant A veritable mare stalker He would fight any trespassing stallion His mates were the most select And his colts were Grandpa’s Mexican medallions This black stallion fired my pen and imagination As a little boy seeking to define his shiny rippling muscles Aphrodite’s amorous snorting ...