I love to see a beautiful horse and snow falling in huge flakes covering him as if a blanket. The snow falling softly down as feathers upon his mane. His bridle tells me he is loved, soon someone will arrive to release him and walk him into a warm shed dimly lit by the lattern light till the skies turn blue once again. Such gentle loving creatures I so long to own one. To feel the breeze against my face as he gentle gallops into the wind. Joyce Poppen
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