+6 votes
213 views
in Writing Contests by
The Wild Brumby

When I stand upon the ancient rocks,crumbling away

I hear a thundering of hooves galloping this way

And there he is, rearing and pounding the air!

Then he came down and gently blew into my hair,

Then he was gone again,gone again,gone again

Off into the wilderness where I wouldn’t see him again



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