A land of magic exists above the clouds
And a sad, old rocking horse sits by the window
Knowing he'd lost a friend.
A white tuft of hair is all that is left of a once grand mane,
Flakes of paint had fallen off his wooden head,
His plastic saddle had faded and cracked in the sun,
One of his antique glass eyes was missing,
Still, he sat, and as he looked out the window
A beam of light made its way to him,
It moved in a slow, magestic manner but had purpose,
As it hit the frosty window it burst into colour
The rocking horse was ungulfed by beauty
But soon realised he was beauty
His mind used to force itself through other's eyes,
Magic made him realise he was what he perceived,
And even though it was less than most rocking horses,
It was enough to make him rock in happiness until
The friend he had lost had a child.
(5 January 1981)
Jeff Hobbs
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rocking-horse-2/
