In This Olden Soul, a Fast Dancing Horse
In This Olden Soul, A Fast Dancing Horse
In this olden soul, a fast dancing horse
lively one I now can not ride, of course.
Looking on this world, it races away
saddened by hidden darkness holding sway.
With echoing hoofs tapping stronger beats
I dream of my love between silken sheets.
Her long, pretty hair with its golden sheen
as I recall, fantasies of my teens.
Pounding of my heart when love's race is on
sorrowful stampede when my love has gone.
At such pain, horse speeds into the mists
I beat wailing walls, with my bloody fists.
In this olden soul, a fast dancing horse
its premature death, my greatest remorse.
Robert J. Lindley, 3-04-2018
Sonnet, 3-04-2018
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