Summer Horses

March 10, 2012
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Waking early in the morning,
Bright unclouded skies.
As they all begin to run,
Playfully prancing across the field.
Raising their feet high in the air,
Gentle breeze blows through their mane.
Soon it is time to rest,
A snack of bright green grass.
Though the young one still wants to have fun,
It is time to hit the hay.
Awake till the others sleep,
The youngest slowly lies down.
Youngster begins to dream,
Of more games tomorrow.
At last he closes his big brown eyes,
It is time to say good night.
Summer horses free and excited,
Oh, why can’t it be summer every day?

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