"Daddy, can I ride the horsy? Please, oh Daddy, please.”
"Of course you can, my princess,” and he lifted her with ease
onto the pure white yearling with pink ribbons in its mane—
and he cried as toward the stars she rode, her hands tight on the reins.
Her laughter danced liked leprechauns; her hair flowed on the wind,
but falling tears still drowned his view— he knew where this would end.
No sooner than he dried his tears, he heard a frightened cry,
and turned to see the young horse balk; a snake had slithered by.
His princess flew from where she sat up o'er the stallion's head,
and on the ground she landed, SPLAT! She lay there as if dead.
Her father ran up to his joy, and raised her in his arms,
and soon she opened up her eyes, relieving all alarm.
The yearling too, attended her, a true and faithful friend,
and as she stood she brushed his mane, absolving him of sin.
Once again her father raised her high into the sky,
and placed her on the leather saddle, trying not to cry.
"Daddy, will I fall again?” "Perhaps, my princess dear.
But I'll always be with you, so do not ride with fear.”
So as the princess rode away, the father and his wife
together asked the horse’s name; the owner said, "It's Life."
