RARECOLT

In fields of green, where freedom roams, There stood a horse, a beauty to behold, With flowing mane and eyes that gleamed, A creature of grace, my heart was sold. Oh, how I cherished that noble steed, A companion true, a friend indeed, Through trails we'd wander, side by side, In harmony, our spirits would collide. But time, relentless, took its toll, And fate's cruel hand began to unfold, Yet, in my heart, the memories reside, Of that horse, my love, forever tied. So, I sought a way to keep a part, Of that majestic soul, close to my heart, Through saddlery's art, a plan took shape, To honor my steed, to capture its grace. With traditional techniques, skilled and refined, Craftsmen's hands, with passion entwined, They fashioned a bag, with love and care, Using Italian leathers, beyond compare. And at its heart, a snaffle bit, Once part of the bridle, where beauty lit, A symbol of trust, a connection strong, Now repurposed, to carry me along. In every stitch, a memory weaves, Of galloping hooves and autumn leaves, The bag, a vessel, to hold my dreams, A testament to love, or so it seems. For when I carry it, upon my arm, I feel the presence, a soothing balm, The spirit of my horse, forever near, In every step, I hold it dear. So, let the world marvel at this creation, A tribute to a horse, a true sensation, For though it's just a bag, to some it may seem, To me, it's a treasure, a cherished dream. And as I wander, wherever I may roam, My beloved horse, forever my own, In this bag, its beauty shall reside, A constant reminder, by my side.