It’s damp and cold on a December day
Instead of white and snowy for the day.
At home in the warmth of my abode
There is not much help to share the load.
The burden of thought weighs down on me
While gazing at loved ones so pensively.
I’ve thought and thought of what lies ahead
No visions of sugarplums dance in my head.
But a horse may help guide the way
To a wandering child who is afraid to say
Things dancing around in her troubled head
Even when sleeping in her dreamlit bed.