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My Beautiful white Horse

A poem about a white horse I visited in a field. It passed away a year ago!

Beautiful White Horse by HoneyBee000

Oh beautiful, beautiful white horse running free, the morning frost melting underneath your hooves.

I call your name and I watch you plod heavily diagonally through the sodden mud towards me, steam expelling through your nostrils.

I wait patiently at the gate and you nod and whinny as you come to greet me!

I give you tokens of orange carrots and juicy apples; in exchange for a gentle caress of your velvet fur.

We exchange glances; your eyes big and brown with dark black pupils and mine small and bluish grey; but our eyes meet and suddenly we have exchanged souls and I feel I know you!

I stroke the fur between your ears and you nuzzle your head against my arm, pushing against me.

You bow your head as I scratch between your ears.

Your front hoof digging at the frosty ground with a thump, thump, thump!

I look into your brown eyes all dark and bloodshot and I feel I have witnessed your soul.

One day I ran along the wire fence shouting your name, you chased my words of encouragement.

Did you know my face, my soul, my words and what they meant?

You were a stubborn white horse when I first met you, quite like me!

I came with my children as we did every morning to see you and give you attention...

Only this morning there was a blue sheet over you.

I sensed the worst, as two walkers with their small dogs ushered us by and said,

"Don’t let the children see!"

I walked to school and dropped my children off, all the while telling them it was nothing.

“I'll tell you later!” I kept repeating to them.

“I’ll tell you later!”

But inside my heart was breaking.

Could I have done more to prevent this horse from dying? Last year was an exceptionally cold winter, was that the reason my beautiful white horse died that early frosty morning? Was it too much for my beautiful white horse?

It's winter again my beautiful white horse and it's cold again.

I walk past where you used to be and I can still sense you there in spirit.

My beautiful, beautiful white horse!

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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