Open Fields to Play
Memories of imaginations unchained, of pounding hooves and waving manes.
Of battles staged on ancient plains,
Robby, Malcolm, Sandie, and me.
Racing over open fields.
Horizons flat and far and left unfilled.
Laughing, screaming, shouts away
children"s days, filled with play.
Two are gone, two remain.
Happy memories still the same.