Moonshadow

The hills are bathed in a silver light as bright as day

The long grass whispers in the wind and the crickets play their fiddles

An owl hoots in the distance harmonizing with the Nightingale's song

On the crest of the rise he pauses, listening

The mares are resting, some lay in the grass with young foals at their sides

The herd is at peace, confident that he is watching over them

A shadow in the night protecting them from danger

His ears swivel in every direction picking up the slightest sound

He lifts his head proudly to scent the breeze, his delicate nostrils quivering

His fined boned face gives way to a powerful, curved neck

His chest is deep, his shoulders and back are strong

A sleek body is balanced on long, clean legs

Powerful hindquarters propel him forward at incredible speeds

His long mane and tail flowing behind like banners in the wind

When he runs the thunder of his hooves can be heard for miles

His whistle is the cry of freedom

In his eyes burns a wild fire that can not be tamed

He who is as dark as the shadow of the moon