Willowbrook Polo Farms
“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” - Winston Churchill
© Willow Brook Polo Farms 2019
The Polo Pony" by Jim Watson

Dedicated to the true athletes of the game....the horse!

He's a plucky little guy with a quiet trusting eye He's a terror on the field - an angel off it His wit is quick and cool and he's nobody's fool To the polo pony, take your hat and tip it. He's a chestnut, spot, or gray; he's a buckskin, roan or bay; He's a thoroughbred or quarter horse - by name. From a thousand farms and ranches, from the river, creeks, and branches, Comes the POLO PONY, bred to play the game. He has traveled many miles, in a multitude of styles, And never yet complained - tho well he might. Thru heat and cold and rain, on a trailer, truck or train As the polo pony passes thru the night. It's no chore to load him; you never need to goad him He's broke the very best - with love and leather. He has no thought of greed, just a nicker for his feed; Yes, the polo pony, he's your pal forever. When he booted up and tacked, and he stands with muscles slacked, On the picket line and rests - with half closed eyes. From the way he hangs his head, you'd guess him near half dead,
But the polo pony needs no alibis. For when that warning whistle blows, up will pop his hears and nose; Muscles tense and eyes fly wide - and come alight. Hong on, when the ball's tossed in, for mid the dust and din, That old polo pony's feelin for a flight. He will stop and spin and ruin 'till the the game is lost or won; His heart is wrought of steel - hes mouth of velvet. He will bump and bump again and he'll always play to win; For the polo pony, up and pass the helmet. Wheather footing's good or bad, he's ever more than glad To give you all he's got - as well you know it. For his mind is on the game, be he stiff or sore or lame; Yes, the polo pony's much too brave to show it. When you're playing for the cup, and you have to double up; And it's hotter than blue blazes - scored all tied. Just forget you aches and pains and gather up your reins; For the polo pony takes it all in his stride. When the final chukker's played and the final goal's been made. And his last great game is done - he'll graze and sleep. Yes, the polo pony's earned his pasture deep.
Willowbrook Polo Farms
“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” - Winston Churchhill
© Willow Brook Polo Farms 2019
The Polo Pony" by Jim Watson

Dedicated to the true athletes of the game....the horse!

He's a plucky little guy with a quiet trusting eye He's a terror on the field - an angel off it His wit is quick and cool and he's nobody's fool To the polo pony, take your hat and tip it. He's a chestnut, spot, or grey; he's a buckskin, roan or bay; He's a throughbred or quarter horse - by name. From a thousand farms and ranches, from the river, creeks, and branches, Comes the POLO PONY, bred to play the game. He has traveled many miles, in a multitude of styles, And never yet complained - tho well he might. Thru heat and cold and rain, on a trailer, truck or train As the polo pony passes thru the night. It's no chore to load him; younever need to goad him He's broke the very best - with love and leather. He has no thought of greed, just a nicker for his feed; Yes, the polo pony, he's your pal forever. When he booted up and tacked, and he stands with muscles slacked, On the picket line and rests - with half closed eyes. From the way he hangs his head, you'd guess him near half dead,
But the polo pony needs no alibis. For when that warning whistle blows, up will pop his hears and nose; Muscles tense and eyes fly wide - and come alight. Hong on, when the ball's tossed in, for mid the dust and din, That old polo pony's feelin for a flight. He will stop and spin and ruin 'till the the game is lost or won; His heart is wrought of steel - hes mouth of velvet. He will bump and bump again and he'll always play to win; For the polo pony, up and pass the helmet. Wheather footing's good or bad, he's ever more than glad To give you all he's got - as well you know it. For his mind is on the game, be he stiff or sore or lame; Yes, the polo pony's much too brave to show it. When you're playing for the cup, and you have to double up; And it's hotter than blue blazes - scored all tied. Just forget you aches and pains and gather up your reins; For the polo pony takes it all in his stride. When the final chukker's played and the final goal's been made. And his last great game is done - he'll graze and sleep. Yes, the polo pony's earned his pasture deep.