Daughter of the Wind

by CELIA STOCK

Standing looking at a creature of beauty
Exhilarates and fulfils a natural duty.
Appreciating the wonderful feeling it brings
Observing Nature pull her magic strings.

Poised in the paddock eager and alert
Aware of the black stallion that likes to flirt.
They breathe in each other’s nose and smile,
Whisper sweet nothings all the while.

A picture of elegance with oval dark eyes
Pride of the nomads, their war mares a prize.
Late in the eve’ the mares come into the tent
From a teacup they drink milk, heaven sent.

Dished face head tapers to a small soft muzzle,
One less rib than other horse types is a puzzle.
Intelligence, grace, endurance and speed,
Tail held high, short back, a noble steed.

The breed that drinks the wind and floats on air
You guessed, she is my magnificent Arabian mare.
She can gently nibble your collar and tear her eye.
I have promised her to keep and love her ’til I die.

merdivinity

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