White Horse On the Vale

There is a white horse on the vale, where it oft go and play, and eat heaven honey a plenty through its sleepless hallowed gate; the ponies watch and prance and dance, and never wander afar, for they see the good of it, when they answer my beckoned call I feel from a home inside me, a place for love and holly, (this very white horse I dreamt) was heavenly sent --- and for all, this white horse doth come, from the bosom of God, with every soul's name etched on its sides; and when I awoke it was all a dream, but was it a dream? --- I asked myself at last, shall an experience of any kind be fiction, in its marrow and left impression--- be unworthy of reality? I do not know for absolutes sake --- claim this white horse 'exists' but it is pleasing more perhaps, to dream it real, for this waking world --- with its sometimes infinite despair (makes far less sense) ~~~ There is a white horse on the vale, and when I called it came... and he helped me up, and rode me from harm's way; that's why the ponies watch and prance and dance, and see the good of it... ****A dream within a dream I had****