by Linda Ann Nickerson

Created on: May 14, 2008

COME TO ME

Leave the herd, and come to me,
And we will roam the wilds with glee.
Gallop from the greenest field,
And so become my strongest shield.

We have waited, right or wrong,
To discover joys lifelong.
The trail awaits us, end unknown,
With secret beauty yet unshown.

We'll mend the miles and race the breeze,
A-galloping beneath the trees.
So carry me beyond mundane,
As I hold tightly to your mane.

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