The hoofs of the horses The hoofs of the horses! — Oh! witching and sweet Is the music earth steals from the iron-shod feet; No whisper of lover, no trilling of bird Can stir me as hoofs of the horses have stirred. They spurn disappointment and trample despair, And drown with their drum-beats the challenge of care; With scarlet and silk for their banners above, They are swifter than Fortune and sweeter than Love. On the wings of the morning they gather and fly, In the hush of the night-time I hear them go by The horses of memory thundering through With flashing white fetlocks all wet with the dew. When you lay me to slumber no spot you can choose But will ring to the rhythm of galloping shoes, And under the daisies no grave be so deep But the hoofs of the horses shall sound in my sleep. I am better for knowing you, better for having met you. May you be as blessed in the next life Fiona, as I was in this one by knowing you. Rest in peace Gill, Sadie, Rosie and Bridget

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Fiona. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.

I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.