Riding As One
Waist-high clover waves in the wind,
like sheaves of wheat brushed by an invisible hand.
The scent of sweet tilled earth clears my mind,
I stop and inhale the fragrance.
My anxious steed nudges me leg,
eager to take me for a ride.
And ride we did, all in slow motion,
across the endless green.
Horse and rider fused as one, body and soul
flying across the fields until I woke
and realized it was my favorite dream.
Copyright LVanHorn2010 All Rights Reserved
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