by Stephen D Hedrick
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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The caring and emotional well being of horse and rider.
The frost drifts in, from parts unknown,
to cover pastures and the pines
with layers of crystal gemstones,
hewn from morning dew alone
that catch the stars to share their shine.
My walk within this moonless morn
shatters stillness, now unheard,
as riding boots, sullied, worn,
crackle the frozen grass overborne.
Yet I amble on, undeterred.
‘cause there’s a friend of mine in need,
just beyond the haystack heap.
She studies the dark anxiously
to mind my approach, as we agreed;
a solemn pledge, a promise to keep.
A shaken mane is heard within
as the heavy barn door creaks.
She prances back and forth the pen
and nickers quick, good morning friend.
A rub on the neck answers sweet.
Pull the cinch, the saddle is done.
Mount and whisper words she knows.
We glide across a field of satin,
cantering soft to seek the sun.
Our breath blows white against the cold.
First light’s touch streak the clouds red and warns that woeful weather looms.
But not for a while, so we instead
enter the wooded hills ahead
and climb a path the branches dome.
On the ridge, at the edge of the world,
slow dripping frost weeps for its end.
We watch as a fiery sun is hurled
aloft by the distant hills of pearl.
A sight to behold, my equine friend.
Tall Tales and Sonnets of the South