Storms Brewing

Rolling water,
Like a great black beast,
Clashes on the lonely ship,
Sailing east.

The sailors struggle,
Trying to secure the mast.
Then one of them calls,
"Land ho at last!"

A Mustang Story

A Mustang Story

Winds blowing across a frozen lake,
Galloping, galloping, galloping.
Rain beating against rough sand,
Hoof beats sounding, seeming to sing.

Brown hooves and grey stone,
Clashing together.
Never to be caught,
Never a tether.

Mane all tangled and windblown,
Tail streaming out behind in a feathery banner.
Burrs in you coat, tickling your back,
Bucking in a crazy manner.

Sing to the wind,
Your sweet song.
Beautiful and loving,
Not too short, or too long.

Rain slowing down,
And stopping.
Clouds fly away, sun peaks out,
No more water, leaving you sopping.

Finish your song,
Bask in the sun.
Night falls upon you,
Day is done.

Night

Silent as an owl during day,
Dark as pitch,
As dawn approaches, turning grey,
Towing day along behind.

Never escaping the rays of the sun,
Cold as death's icy fingers.
Day is the mother, you are the son,
The stars are your sisters.