Birdsong calls across the morn
To herald coming of the dawn,
While in my slumber I do engage
Dreams of thunder upon my stage.

Waking with the gentle touch
From raven mane adored so much,
A dream or two slips gently through
Holding still, my heart for you.

Though can't idle with sweet night,
Take the bridle! Ride the light!
For within my searing veins,
Runs a need to grasp the reins.

Intense burning in the yearning
To pass land and ocean turning,
Steeds set pace! Time to race!
I must rejoin, my loves embrace.

- Christopher John Horne

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