Horses are grazing by the field wall still Here where you sit , the clarity of air Brings watercolour down to kiss the hill Memory cannot tell me when or where Loves pours out from your image. Love , until Unbridled hooves through time might take me there On horses.
In places which only the heart can fill Be beautiful and young , mirroring care Across a scene too far away to share Before the wall is gone, then slow, downhill Come horses
This is a strict Rondeau form.... I was listening to string quartets at the time and maybe some of the discipline of form came across.