Synchronicity

Leathery smells and hay dust
Assault my senses all.
Brushing a mane, combing a tail,
Rippled chestnut shoulders tall.

A turn of the head and a curious look
From soft and gentle eyes;
A nudge, a nuzzle for a treat-
“Just one, before you ride”.

Forehead to forehead, inhaling deep,
Then grabbing saddle and mane.
A gentle sigh, a slight head bow,
Up and forward I rise.

Your gentle motion comforts me,
Saddled secure to ride;
Forward we move in harmony,
Rocking in synchronous glide!

Posting Information ▼

This poem was written for The Poet's Place Café assignment December 22, 2015 and posted here: "Re: DISCUSSION: The Rhythms of Language"  . Revised the last verse from 3 lines to 4 lines and corrected asynchronous to synchronous 9/22.