CLOP
I see nought but blackened walls
In a world forsaken by all.
Free, free, fly from these stalls!
I gallop and try not to fall.
Thunderous hooves – send me a squall!
Up, up, to heaven’s halls.
The farmer surveyed his land. The newly cut grass barely swayed in the breeze from the visible ocean not five miles away. All was peace. He turned and faced the door when a loud crash sounded from behind the house. He ran there, panting, and stared with widened eyes at a horse breaking through the wooden stall. The horse whined and shrieked, tongue licking the sudden torrent of rain and thunder, rose to her back legs and nearly howled to the radiant moon. No sooner had the farmer scratched his head in wonder before wings sprout from the horse’s back. She flew away, up into the sky, and disappeared.
“Never saw a horse do that before…” The farmer mumbled and took another sip of moonshine.
– F H Hakansson
F. H. Hakansson 
Spot on!
Thank you darling!
When I read the poetry it seemed so Wagnerian that I was swept away. It took me a few moment to relocate myself to the scene described in the prose. I shall now stagger drunkenly onward into my own fantasies. 🙂
It’s truly a great compliment to be compared to Wagner 😀 Yes it’s quite a new thing for me to combine poetry and prose like this. I hope it wasn’t too confusing.
Do that and I’ll drop by your site later to get a glimpse of those fantasies of yours! 😀
It’s a date. 😀
Excellent. Such vivid prose. I think this is the first time I have read something like this of yours–aside from poetry of course. I rather like it!
Thank you Kathryn! 😀 Yes, I’ve been quite bad at publishing prose, which is my main field after all, and I’m hoping there will be more soon. I will start working on some short stories in a week or so. Let’s hope you’ll enjoy them as well!