… beautiful and elegant I stand, sensual and stunning I am, my maker created me with delibrateness, pockets of love are hidden all over me, to be discovered and filled with love and then I blossom all over filling your nostrils with sweetest aroma. I am a dressage horse in the elite world of equestrian sport. I am to be handled with care, delicateness, like a priceless fragile chinaware. Our dance should be light with freedom of movement and intense close partnership. It should be a delightful and effortless ballet, touching the very soul of the observer and bringing tears to their eyes, tears of joy, tears that stems from watching something too beautiful to articulate.
Know me and you will be glad you do, touch me right and I will take you to places you have never been, I will perform willingly to my maximum ability, ability neither you nor I know exists. Gentle does the job, with smoothness I will glide and respond with minimum prompt.
Yet, you brought me home and put me to work, for you thought I was a workhorse, your forced me to work, to do as told, to attend to your bidding. Your style is rollkur, unatural and vile. Duty and role is the order of the day. You whip when your needs are not met, other times you lash with your tongue or sulk. At the end of the day, I look worn out, drained and tired, exhausted from the heavy burden and expectations.
A workhorse, I am not, beauty is my name, tenderness is my game. Play me right and the elusive 10 is yours!
Beautiful Ivory 