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| Guy Owen |
(1969)
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| The White Stallion The Runaway | ||||
| A white horse came to our farm once Leaping like dawn the backyard fence. In dreams I heard his shadow fall Across my bed. A miracle, I woke beneath his maneīs surprise; I saw my face within his eyes, The dew ran down his nose and fell Upon the bleeding window quince . . . . But long before I broke the spell My fatherīs curses sped him on, Four flushing hooves that bruised the lawn. And as I stumbled into dawn I saw him scorn a final hedge, I heard his pride upon the bridge, Then through the wakened yard I went To read the rage the stallion spent. |
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