by Madelaina
My mesmerism is the way you blaze,
Across a land that surrenders a roar…

by Madelaina
Each rear, it draws me near,
Each buck steals them from gravity’s binds…

by Madelaina
Springtime you’ll joy in the clover,
the dandelion fields you believe a wonder…

by Madelaina
Blossoms that bloom through not only spring
Are these wild horses, alive…

by Madelaina | With the battle for the freedom of America’s wild mustangs, I’ve read, gathered and dwelled on the many facts I came across, and the thoughts that evolved from them. So here I’ve composed a small but provoking collection of them to hopefully inform and inspire…

by Julia
Thirty-three thousand roam the lands of the west.
They gallop and frolic with their own lands to roam…

by Madelaina
The sand’s teasing glares subsided
as the world was swallowed in a mouth of grey…

by Madelaina
My girl talks about her dreams,
of glory and rosettes…

by Madelaina
My horse is my everything -
my breaths, my pains, my life.

by Madelaina | There’s this thought I’ve been dwelling on as I tried other hobbies (most of these attempts I think I failed, but that’s not exactly the point). You see, when you’re doing gymnastics, dancing or even singing, you often do it by yourself and alone…