The bird, a red streak against the sky,
swoops down and skims the earth.
Then, like an arrow,
shot back into the blue and disappears.
The majestic eagle sours,
winging its way up as if to touch the sun.
Then, as he glides down,
spotting a rabbit stiff with fear,
he dives as if into water,
and then soars up,
with the limp rabbit clutched
in his knife like talons.
The foal lies in the straw, its body glistening wetly.
Its sides heave as he struggles to rise on spidery limbs.
Then his mother approaches, cautiously sniffing the stranger.
Then reassured, scrubs the small body with her tongue,
as if to rub the fur off his coat.
There is my fairy, so sweet and bright,
sitting on the petal, airy and light.
She is there during the night,
and even the day,
so I think she is here to stay.
A flicker of light,
something flitting in and out of the shadows.
A delicate fluttering sound, a
A moth? Dragonfly?
A play of light and sound?
Or a fairy?
The red stallion stands, tall and majestic, silhouetted against the sun. Watching
over his band with a father like pride. Then, his ears pricked, nostrils flared, he wheels around and faces a lone black stallion,
approaching the band. The red stallion knickers to his band and the mares hurriedly make a protective circle around the younger
members. He snorts and then whinnies his challenge to the loner. The young, inexperienced black stallion is eager to fight
and charges. The two stallions lock together, their hoofs flying and teeth shining. Their snorts and grunts ring across the
valley. They twist and turn, each seeking to find a death grip. Then the, the black stallion backs away, knowing hes beet
and flies across the valley and out of sight.
As the flames dance and twist and turn on logs,
if you look you can see the soul of the fire,
pure, and white hot.
The flames crackle all around,
and you can see the orange glow,
as the flames eat up the wood.
As the fire slowly dies down,
the embers glow orange and red,
desperately trying to stay alive.
Its worst fear is water,
flowing over the hissing coals,
taking away the heat,
the life of the fire.
Flickering, shining, lighting up frightened faces.
The red and yellow flames climbing the walls like a living thing.
Tongues of fire blackening, eating the wood.
Colorful bodies and shapes dancing in the glow.
Then a clanging, roaring ,screeching.
Men in suits with hoses jump out, looking like aliens.
Sprays of water fight the flames,
pushing them back, cooling their heat.
Desperate, it tries to burn,
but it is to late.
It loses its grip and dying,
the fire flickers and disappears.
Sometimes it is dark and cold, sometimes it is bright with moonlight, but we
cant change it because it is night. As night steals over the horizon, and blocks out the sun, it will soon be time to go to
bed. The night is a black velvet blanket, dotted with cut out stars, or maybe the night is dark chocolate ice cream, covered
with sprinkles, that melts away as the sun rises.