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****
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2018
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