In the field where the wild grasses wave,
Mighty horses, both bold and brave,
Manes like nightfall, tails streaming long,
This ancient dance, a galloping song.
Upon their backs, dreams take their shape,
Soaring through landscapes, with no escape.
A surge of muscle, power, and might,
Under the sky, they're in full flight.
No fence too high, no path too steep,
They conquer hills in a single leap.
With hearts aflame and spirits strong,
The beat of hooves, Earth's primal gong.
A symbol of freedom, wild and free,
Their silhouettes, pure poetry.
In the whisper of wind, their spirits rise,
Horses: our dreams materialized.
Under a blanket of starlit skies,
The horse trots forth, as daylight dies.
Velvet noses touch gentle hands,
As moonbeams dance across the lands.
Whispers of wind in the silent air,
The sense of peace found only there.
Together they move in the soft moonlight,
Graceful companions in the quiet night.
A bond unspoken, a trust that's raw,
Guided only by nature's law.
The horse knows the way, the path to take,
Beneath the heavens, all else feels fake.
A journey not measured in miles or time,
But in moments where everything's fine.
Under the stars, troubles dismissed,
In the nocturnal world, a tranquil bliss.
When spring arrives with a gentle breeze,
The horse prances light, with such ease.
Amongst budding flowers and new-born leaves,
They celebrate life, which winter bereaves.
As summer's warmth spreads across the land,
They canter by the sea, grains of sand.
A gallop along the beach, waves applaud,
In the heat of sun, spirits unflawed.
Fall's tapestry paints the woods gold and red,
Where horses through the fallen leaves tread.
A crunch beneath hooves, cool air, clear skies,
They breathe in the change, with bright, wise eyes.
Winter cloaks earth in a shroud of white,
Yet the horse stands tall, a noble sight.
In the crunch of the snow, the frosty air,
Their steadfast warmth, none can compare.
Legends of old, in their muscle entwined,
Horses, through history, with humans combined.
Hooves drumming rhythms of ages gone,
Their whispers of past tales, ever drawn.
From knights in armor to carriage steeds,
In every conquest, through heroic deeds.
A silent witness to our rise and fall,
Sturdy backs on which histories sprawl.
Beasts of burden, friends in war,
Galloping echoes of folklore.
Each scar a story, each gaze a tale,
Through time's vast sea they've set their sail.
So honor the horse, treasure their might,
For they carry the past into the light.
In every canter, trot, and gallop-paced,
Echoes of humanity are interlaced.
Across the plains, where the wild mustang roams,
In bands of beauty, Earth's living poems.
Their hooves beat a song of the untamed west,
In echoes of freedom, they are truly blessed.
Manes flying wild, eyes fierce with light,
They are the embers of day's last light.
Not bound by bridles, nor fences confine,
In their heartbeats, a pure design.
They face the storm, undaunted, unswayed,
Strong spirits unbroken, in sun or shade.
A reverent silence for this wild breed,
Their presence a reminder of our own need.
To run without limit, to live unrestrained,
The wild mustang's lesson, simply explained.
In their flight lies a freedom we all seek to taste,
A tribute to untethered life, unchased.