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Description
A centaur giving a damsel a ride in the woods. Accompanies my poem: The balad of the Last Centaur
The Ballad of the Last Centaur
I looked to the stars but I never could trace
What on earth had become of the rest of my race
I concluded that I was the last of my line
With the trunk of a man and the rest equestrine.
Two hearts beat within me, below and above
In a solitary thing with no other to love,
so I kept to myself in the wood's dappled shade
and I hunted alone with my bow and my blade.
One day there came a sound, the coarse voices of men
who had come to the wild, passing close to my den;
And a hostage they had- the fair child of a lord-
Whom they'd taken, forsooth, to demand some reward.
And it troubled me much when I heard their chief say
what they would do to her, should her father not pay,
And the next thing I knew my straight arrow was flying-
The brute was unhorsed and down in the dirt dying;
I seized then my chance and at them I was rushing
Somehow wielding a branch, skulls and helmets for crushing.
My crude cudgel whirled, and my front hooves they flailed
kicking and wind

Description
A centaur giving a damsel a ride in the woods. Accompanies my poem: The balad of the Last Centaur
The Ballad of the Last Centaur
I looked to the stars but I never could trace
What on earth had become of the rest of my race
I concluded that I was the last of my line
With the trunk of a man and the rest equestrine.
Two hearts beat within me, below and above
In a solitary thing with no other to love,
so I kept to myself in the wood's dappled shade
and I hunted alone with my bow and my blade.
One day there came a sound, the coarse voices of men
who had come to the wild, passing close to my den;
And a hostage they had- the fair child of a lord-
Whom they'd taken, forsooth, to demand some reward.
And it troubled me much when I heard their chief say
what they would do to her, should her father not pay,
And the next thing I knew my straight arrow was flying-
The brute was unhorsed and down in the dirt dying;
I seized then my chance and at them I was rushing
Somehow wielding a branch, skulls and helmets for crushing.
My crude cudgel whirled, and my front hooves they flailed
kicking and wind