THE SPANISH HORSE
Eyes that did not blink when the arrow grazed his cheek and caught the ancient meaning in a fleeting, burning glance. Ears that heard the cannon´s roar, the whispering words of love. Skin of shot silk that knew the summer´s heat, the winters frost. Hooves that traced new paths to lands unknown to man. A heart whose beat would quicken, keeping pace with the wishes of his master. Tireless vigor, proving no demand for him to great.
His spirit shared the dreams and hopes of old spain´s men if iron, while at his proud feet the conquered nations lay. He lives yet only ask and will weave a spell to light in the dark recesses of your being, spinning around you a web of sweet delights. He will be your children´s playmate, a child himself, he´ll do no harm. He´ll pardon like no other omissions, errors, thoughtless handling.
His back, a throne of feathers, will bear you smoothly at the trot and canter. He´ll go where others dare not. He stand firm where other flee in terror.
You´l l discover that the pirouettes is easy, that a rein back gan go on forever, that you need not be a great rider to perform airs above the ground, At the spur´s light touch he´ll take flight with the wind, bearing you safety through the air laden with long forgotten fragrance.
