Jul 2013
brought back by an old greeting
of warm breath and soft skin
the hay-filled scent of childhood yearning
fulfilled once more
by the slender elegance of a whiskered muzzle
a place of sacred worship
where every sorrow was once laid to rest
from those beloved younger years
oh, how easily forgotten this place was
how swiftly it became tainted
by the red passing of first love
for the place that once guarded sanctuary
became a district of grief
yet here the fantasy of little girls is awakened once again
where the shrine of golden tenderness
rests anew within the eyes of a horse
of warm breath and soft skin
the hay-filled scent of childhood yearning
fulfilled once more
by the slender elegance of a whiskered muzzle
a place of sacred worship
where every sorrow was once laid to rest
from those beloved younger years
oh, how easily forgotten this place was
how swiftly it became tainted
by the red passing of first love
for the place that once guarded sanctuary
became a district of grief
yet here the fantasy of little girls is awakened once again
where the shrine of golden tenderness
rests anew within the eyes of a horse
I am so lucky to have a host family that not only welcomes me into their home, but also into their stable. Since the passing of my own horse over a year ago, I have lost touch with a love that I have carried for the entirety of my life. 16 years of horseback riding has not gone to waste. I am so thankful for the opportunity and the feeling of completeness that overcomes me during my stay in Italy.
