Wind Is Pounding In My Heart

'wind is pounding in my heart' It tears across the steppes and plain, it guides my mind and eases pain Whithin the yurt, upon the road, it whets my mind; eases the loads I've rode it's Breast ten thousand times,' with banner high the yak tails nine Its of my blood, throughout my race, we hold it near'in flood; or trace It's face is clear,, it's embrace strong, we sing it's praise riding along The clatter of the ponys hooves, not loved by those who dwell neath rooves.! The pallid sallow, wall surrounded.. And when we start they'll be astounded..' We ride hard two days and nights, to charge and wheel; and ever strike.' To clear a space, where yurts can be; then to move in travel free To wake to different scenes around, to venture quickly into feotid towns To take a bargain, to strike a deal; to return to the fire, and let sleep steal And in this act, renew our mettle, to grasp each chance with finest fettle. 'For the contest of Constance Lafrance' 'Be inspired by your muse' Written 17 8 2022