A Man Looked into My Eyes Today

A man looked into my eyes today
From the back of a big brown mare,
His grey-green eyes reflected the skies
And the wind was in his hair.

I’d passed the test when I opened the gate
I was one of his kind I could be his mate
And he galloped through with his distant thoughts;
I followed his form as he crossed the moor,
I followed his eye and then I saw
The hills were alive with huntsman’s cries
And view halloo, the hound and the horn,
It’s a world afar from where I was born.

My streets aren’t filled with the clatter of hooves,
They are busy and rough and cold as stone
One always feels alone.
Even in crowds by the Festival Hall,
By the magnificent spire of St Pauls,
Watching the pleasure boats chug the river,
I’m lost in crowds, I dither,
Unseen one could die or rust.
Down and out or upper crust
No one cares in my city of sin
No one cares if you’re out or in,
You could sit in a corner and cry
And people would just pass you by.

But not on the Exmoor hunting ground
No one is lost and no one is found;
Not in the crowd of jolly folk
Did I see a single lonely bloke,
Out in the wind and the rain and the snow
On they gallop on they go,
It wasn’t the deer, nor the fox, nor the hare,
‘T was the spirit of Exmoor they hunted there.

Caroline Baldock © 2013