From the neck of Medusa as Perseus smote her he reared his head to fly, On wings outstretched a full grown

horse cantering up towards the sky, His mane and coat are pure white like the clouds that soothe his sides, With eyes the palest blue sparks of determination up to heaven he rides. Warm breath steams from his nostrils as he thunders over hill and dale, His hooves wondrous fast whilst his wings are pinned back golden pale, Every sinew stretches and every muscle flexes to the rhythm as he runs, Blazing past and through the shadows like the light from a dozen suns. His tail is like the The moon catches the And Pegasus whinnies He feeds on the lush bolt of Zeus as it streaks across the sunset of the night, luminescent strands the hair gone wild in flight, in joy and exhilaration like any horse left to roam, grass at the foot of Olympus and dreams of home.

His ears swivel to hear the echoes from Gods who call on the soft breeze, They woo the ear of man with taunting dreams which delight and tease, But a horse has no such wish to pass the time and amuse themselves thus, They prefer to wander in their herds with little other company or fuss. Sometimes a naiad would bring him a garland to place about his neck, Or a wounded soldier needs carrying from bloody field or burning deck, And Pegasus will oblige and then go his own way as he would please, Often running just above the foam of the waves on his Father s seas. He loves the salt spray and the smell of the seaweed as it dries on shore, Paws the soft sand and canters with the tides the rock pools to explore, And the mermaids scales shimmer silver as they swim beneath his nose, Dancing to reflections in the water as each of his golden feathers glows. His muzzle pulls at the ripened fruit of laden branches none can reach, The birds perch in awe and watch at the acrobatics he could teach, Powerful and boisterous he plummets this way and sails upwards still, Rolls to left and falls to right and yet with grace and dignity is his skill. Only the unicorn with which he romances and dances with on occassion, Has the beauty and passion to equal him in prowess and give celebration, Both strength and wisdom flows through their veins and into their hearts, And when they challenge the other they fly over ground as speeding darts. No saddle will adorn the back of the horse whose wings span huge in air, Eagles watch in envy and can only ride the same currents if they dare, But valiant as is the heart of any hero or warrior in the best of old tales, Pegasus braves the fiercest storms and rescues souls caught in evil gales. And here he can be seen laying under the tree where a golden fleece dries, Cleaning his coat without a care unchanged by time with sleep in his eyes, The leaves play a faint tune like a lyre and he listens and is lulled again, The dryad has woven cornflowers and daisies into pleats about his mane. Pegasus the horse who was born from Gods and who has their favour too, King of the herds who can read mens minds and is ever gentle and true, When the time comes and the Golden Age has passed and all is forgot, He ll ride the skies of night and we shall marvel at him in his starry spot.