In fields where morning dew does kiss the ground,
The horses run with spirits wild and free.
Their hooves, a symphony, a rhythmic sound,
The essence of their grace is plain to see.

Through valleys deep and mountains high they soar,
With manes that dance upon the whispering breeze.
They speak of tales from ancient days of yore,
Their presence brings a gentle hearted ease.

Beneath the starlit sky they find their way,
Guided by the moon’s soft, silver light.
In shadows cast by the waning day,
Their silhouettes are shadows in the night.

O, noble steed with heart so pure and wise,
Your spirit roams the vast and boundless plain.
In your embrace, the world’s beauty lies,
Forever free, unchained by any rein.