0075 White Horses [23 August 1997]

Shimmering
in the moonlight.
Dreaming
while they sleep.

Perfect white horses
running through their dreams.
Perfect white wings,
lifting them high in the starlit sky.

Seeming not of this earth,
their pureness and innocence
a breath of fresh air
in this world of ours.

They move like spirits,
seeming like visions
of white ghosts
moving like the breeze.

Flowers white,
as new fallen snow,
floating on the wind
galloping over air.

Wings white,
dreamy white.
Like spirits,
like dreams.

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