The Flight of Frule

The Flight of Frule

The chase began at moonlight

In breeze, leaves on trees askew

Ghost stallion dull in pure starlight

The man and the horse, they knew

They trod the land of grey water

Sharp plains in the wind an ocean

The doomed pair fled their tormentor

Fleet strides, no other notion.

Among rippling grass, ceased flight

They wheeled to face the foe.

Neither faltered, nor took fright

With thoughts of freedom, ‘twas so.

Under cloak and shroud, foe made their rite

All struggle lost to still air

The horse and man were took that night,

By dark souls, just and fair.

In the darkness of the eve of winter

While the plains are a dusky hue

One may hear the sword’s breath shiver,

From the silver mount, a nicker.