Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Finally, out to grass,
the old warhorse stands,
rust brown and battle scarred,
in the pasture of its reward,
dreaming of the days of toil,
all cylinders working,
pride of the hero farmer.
In the lane, a restorer names his price.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 05.26.22
Prompt: As per illustration.
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