Written By - John Powers
For Chester
Fleet of foot, keen of eye,
The winged creature glides from the sky;
Cutting through air as a sharp edged knife,
Running so swiftly because it's his life;
Strong of bone, sinew of iron;
Muscles so strong, the distance ne'er long;
Run with swift feet my eager hound,
Course with such speed,
You'll never touch ground;
Heart pumping blood, boiling hot,
Coursing through veins to reach every spot;
Lungs pumping air like a great bellows,
Cooling the engine of the great running fellow;
Your kind heart and glowing affection,
Is to those you love an endearing infection;
Saddle the wind my courageous hound,
Let your spirit soar through clouds toward heaven;
Saddle the wind my kind hearted friend,
Saddle the wind from whence you were born...
