Stallion in the Sky

Stallion in the Sky

White and wispy, you glide across the clear blue sky,
Head tossed back with wild cirrus mane.
Arched back carried on the breeze, head turned snapping,
At the treetops by your knees.
White and wispy, like a ghost from the past,
You gallop across the clear blue sky,
Buffeted by the jet stream winds,
That threaten to tear you apart.
Where are you from, what tales could you tell,
Of far away lands, distant seas.
Did you ride the great plains with the buffalo?
Are you of arab blood, a noble stallion.
With fiery mane, torn by the swirling winds,
Head thrown back with wild abandon,
Muscular back that throws off the ghost rider,
Stallion in the sky, I call you Windrider.
Silent and spectral, the phantom horse,
You are alive in the clear blue sky,
Drift around the world, seeing all below,
I ride on your moving back and travel,
The voyage of daydreams.
Who owns you now, god or man,
Or are you free to roam at will,
Travelling with the wind, wherever that maybe.
Ride like the wind, Stallion in the sky.

7.10pm 5.8.96
Steve Jones