To Ride A Unicorn
         Sleek muscles play under silvery hide,
         Sunlight glints on the single spiral horn.
         Cloven hoofs stamp the ground nervously,
         As I gaze into the crystal eyes of a unicorn.

         I'd been walking through the woods near my home,
         And heard the sounds of teeth champing the grass.
         Now as I gaze at the silvery beast,
         I whisper, "So, I've found you at last."

         The unicorn lowers his head,
         And begins to walk slowly toward me.
         Sunwashed are his crystal flanks,
         Everything awash in beauty.

         I kneel, open my arms.
         In my lap he tucks his horn.
         He comes down with a fold of his slim legs,
         And then I'm stroking a unicorn.

         He's so beautiful I can hardly believe it.
         From his eyes of crystal gold,
         To his powerful shining neck.
         Beautiful- and bold.

         His tail is a waterfall of crystal,
         Curling around lightly spilt hooves.
         His legs are white and slender,
         Allowing for such graceful moves.

         I begin to gather honeysuckle,
         To braid into his mane.
         A crown of flowers for a woodland king:
         That is what I desire to make.

         But suddenly he scrambles up,
         And I wonder what I've done wrong.
         Then, as he slips to his knee,
         I hear the wind's song

         As it blows through the silken mane
         And whips about my face.
         And I know it is this wind
         The unicorn desires to race.

         As if in a dream I walk to him.
         His fur is soft and warm, under my fingers silver
         I vault lightly to his back,
         And he stands up without a quiver.

         Even as I clench my hands in his snowy mane,
         He charges forward, flashing silver fire.
         Crystal hooves barely touching the ground,
         We drift over bog and mire.

         To ride a unicorn brings such joy,
         Wonder flashing from the depths of your being.
         To feel the silken back under you,
         Your hands in the mane; joy at seeing

         The world go streaming by.
         My unicorn and I tossed back our heads and sang,
         As we floated through the forest,
         Through the falling rain.

         When at last I slipped from the kneeling beast,
         I touched in gratitude the glowing horn.
         He dipped it to me and ran.
         And I still can't believe I rode a unicorn.