Belle

Dreaming and wishing upon a star
For the day I'd find
By chance or luck
The mare of my dreams
One with brains
One with a figure
One that would be my dream come true
Never expecting to find that mare
In a run down stall

Starved and cut
Beaten and broken
In both spirit and body
Looking ancient and tortured
Her mane tattered and ripped
Her coat an ugly grey
This wasn't the horse I'd seen
This was an old pack mule
Worn from work and motherhood

But still I came to her stable
Feeding her apples ans oats
Til the day she was mine
And the day I brought her home
Broken and ugly
She was better off dead
But something told me

She was worth it

Not old in age
But still a young filly
Grey was not her coat
But a shimmering midnight black
No longer is her spirit broken
But repaired by my tender hands
Ugly, she was far from
But in truth
She was the Belle of the land

That broken spirit unwilling to go on
Is now wild and free
Burning with flaming embers
That broken spirit I met that summer day
Will never be the horse of my dreams

She has surpassed that