Poem to a horse

Galloping wildly in the summer sun,
Under silver clouds of heavenly merry,
Joy pumping vigorously in your veins,
Tousled mane shines, devouring envy.

There you stand, the great beast,
Making sound of pride and glory,
Such graceful, fine line stallion,
You bring out the heart in me.

As I stroke the soft, dark bristles,
You race me to the land of fantasy,
Warm and mellow, undying avarice,
Hearten away my melancholy.

Shouldn't I betray my dark blood,
To graze such pleasant serenity,
For a fine, beautiful horsewoman,
Is yours for the belonging.

Hindrance is what I shall pay,
For a commoner, I will stay.