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Dream Horse
Galloping, galloping in the night sky,
a pale dream horse and his dream herd float by.
There's no sound from their hooves,
There's no pound of their hearts,
as silently, soundlessly, they waft through the dark.
The moon was a chalice brimming with light,
when I first looked up and witnessed their flight.
In a swirl of mother-of-pearl stardust they rode,
and freedom of spirit was their only load.
Dream Horse, you are made of dream dust.
You rear on your hind legs and paw at the sky.
On earth you were a sight to stun the eye.
They say on this planet there is no grace
for you and your wild herds-there's not enough space,
but in endless eternity you've found a place.
So ride, Dream Horse, ride. Whirl by with your
dream herd, through the vast, incandescence of night!
There's no friction or resistance in their noiseless race,
as swiftly they slip through rimless space.
poem
by
Mary Naylor
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