Arrows

Swift arrows chased Chief Barefoot But none fast enough to penetrate his skin His paint pony Four leg was mighty Carrying Chief Barefoot faster than the wind The other tribe could not compete As Chief Barefoot flew effortlessly Across mountains and dunes A mystical light enveloped he and his steed A giant protective bubble Arrows bounced off in all directions As if angels of mercy rode with him The heat of the desert Could not drain their energy No peril could befall him As darkness neared the Footsteps and hooves Behind him had faded And he knew now he and His faithful steed Could rest under the moon Without fear of injury Or death