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
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