Horse back riding
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Charcoal grey, with loving, midnight eyes Her voice understood by only me Her heart connected to mine by an invisible string
What I would give to be in Wyoming. Where mountains hug the sky and the wind whispers stories of yesterday. Where lakes mirror dusty pine trees and Father Sun is close enough to burn sunflowers
With a mahogany coat and wind flowing through her mane, She's a picture of beauty, Whisper is her name. Her canter is as if you're floating through air;
I nudged. I pleaded. She moved. She obeyed. I Learned. I remembered. I bound. I froze. I stood. I asked. I coaxed. She encouraged. She nudged. I followed.