Treasure Island

Mary Naylor

(12/17/33 / Chicago, Illinois)

Dream Horse II (Revised)


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 chalis 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.

Ah, but now you are old or without a home.
There is money to be made, and Hearts run cold.
There are those that lie to sell your bones,
No matter how many weep or how many moan!

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 of resistance
in their noisless race
as swiftly they slip through rimless space.

Author's Comments:
'I was deeply shocked to learn of our horses being sold to foreign countries for food. According to articles owners were told they were going to retirement pastures or mercifully euthanized. Proposition 6, Save the Horses and http.//Save the Horses.com make fascinating reading.

Submitted: Thursday, August 31, 2006
Edited: Monday, August 30, 2010

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Comments about this poem (Dream Horse II (Revised) by Mary Naylor )

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  • Sandra Fowler (8/31/2006 5:54:00 PM)

    Wonderful imagery in this beautiful dreamscape of galloping horses. And so much compassion too. I love this one, Mary. Take care.

    Warmest regards,

    Sandra (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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