Black Horse Hills
Black Horse Hills The hills on which you stand were new,
In the year before that of 2002.

A great black steed named Burning Longing
discovered the area and it was vacant no more
he and his subjects here started thronging
And the herds being made, were these subjects for.

A simple mare, lonely and wise
named Cryptic Message, an Arabian
Met Longing and their love was no disguise,
She had for a while no real heart-pain again.

For her pride, a silver-dappled colt,
Burning Silver, after his siring steed,
Was smart but fierce like a lightning bolt
And he did many a good deed.

'Twas a chill spring day when Silver met his love
A pure white femme, they always called her Dove
They bore a son, and dubbed him Silver Bird
For swift was he, when his wings unfurled.

Then slowly, the desertion came to pass
Longing, Cryptic, and Burning Silver gone
The latter two to soon come back; the first gone permanent alas
Burning Silver's son left to rule in his stead.

Silver Bird of the hills became quite a great head,
While prosperously ruling his sires were presumed dead.
Then seemingly out of the blue,
Came back Burning Silver with nary a scratch or two.

With civil reconciliation,
Silver Bird gave up the throne.
He caused his sire no humiliation,
For the family rites did he condone.

And back came Cryptic Message again,
But the loss of her love caused her much pain.
She coped as best she could,
and found a new herd, new home, her new woods.

But now we continue our story
Following Silver Bird, who once had glory.
He settled onto sapphire lands,
And found a mate, Vermillia her name.

The couple brought forth a foal,
A filly at that, and named her Fairy
She was sweet and curious too,
But of her curiousity her parents were wary.

Silver Bird and Vermillia now fade into dusk
A new dawn has come, as a new princess must
But now she takes on the role of Queen
This little Fairy, has grown to be surpreme.

Now we lay you on her plot of land,
These Hills, her heritage, once wan
Remember to cherish and protect
The love in these Hills, that will grow deeper yet.

And once, in the year before 2002,
These legacied Hills were freshly new.

Poem (c) 2003 by Astrid L.

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