white horse vale

i stood on the top of the world

imagining the white horse at my feet

cantering around the vale at midnight

neighing and wickering in the moonshine

ephemeral, ghostly, mysterious

the lone remnant of a people now forgotten

dead and silent as the hills spread before me

there i left a piece of my heart

the horse’s wild, unfettered beauty haunts

even now that i am no longer near

it draws me, and i longingly wish to return

to be free at the top of the world

as i gaze at the white horse beneath my feet