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Soap Box Poets

© by Eleanor Farjeon

From the blood of Medusa
Pegasus sprang.
His hoof upon heaven
Like melody rang,
His whinny was sweeter
Than Orpheus’ lyre,
The wing on his shoulder
Was brighter than fire.

His tail was a fountain
His nostrils were caves,
His mane and his forelock
Were musical waves,
He neighed like a trumpet,
He cooed like a dove,
He was stronger than terror
And swifter than love.

He could not be captured,
He could not be bought,
His running was rhythm,
His standing was thought;
With one eye on sorrow
And one eye on mirth,
He galloped in heaven
And gambolled on earth.

And only the poet
With wings to his brain
Can mount him and ride him
Without any rein.
The stallion of heaven,
The steed of the skies,
The horse of the singer
Who sings as he flies.

Submitted by Corinne

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