Saturday, 1 November 2008

Pure Imagination

Image credit ROB

She rode a white horse dressed all in black,
She rode down the road but she will be back,
To stand in her place by God’s grace,
And see those who hurt her their evils face,
Begging and pleading to be forgiven,
But her heart forever has been driven,
From caring for such traitors and liars,
She’ll walk away leaving them in the briars.

With the wild flowers and birds she will roam,
She will carry the young lamb home,
Under the trees she’ll lie softly and rest,
Over wide waters ride on a wave crest,
Walk with silence like a velvet glove,
Washing her with warm rain from above,
She will ride on through the dark night,
Her horse shining in the pale moonlight.

Her voice will be heard with the nightingale,
She will sing songs that tell many a tale,
They will echo through the highest mountains,
Falling with the waters and rising in fountains,
They will take wing and rise high in the sky,
Over meadows’ simple daisies they will fly,
Through fields of golden corn under the sun,
Waving to a poppy when each verse is done.

You will no longer see her but if you look deep,
Into the woods you may think that you sleep,
When you see a white shadow softly pass by,
And hear echo through silver trees a sweet sigh,
Or look out to sea one warm misty day,
And see a childhood ghost from fairy tales at play,
No horse with such beauty has ever been born,
Was that a horn? Have you seen a unicorn?

Image credit ROB

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