Was it you

Was it you

Did you fly by

Head held high

Hair streaming

Holding the reins

In both hands

A flaming chariot

Pulled by two winged beasts

Flying horses

Pure white stallions

Nostrils flared

Wingtips sweeping the walls

On either side of the street

As they dipped and soared

Leaving a trail of feathers

With every single beat

Spiralling down in dust

Mini tornadoes

Making a play for Kansas

Would that I saw you

In the reflection

Of a window

Beckoning me on

A frenzied chase

Of Ben-Hur proportions

This is no amphitheatre

It is a heart

With empty chambers

It will only take

A minute to raise the pressure

In my blood enough

To ease the febrile delirium

Blink away the delusion

Wishful illusion

For if it was you

Who rode past

This way today

Then I too

Must slip the reins

That hold me

Loosely in this plane

Step into dreamland

And simply fly away