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Free Verse Horse Poems | Free Verse Poems About Horse

These Free Verse Horse poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Horse. These are the best examples of Free Verse Horse poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

SPIRIT RIDER

Alone figure stands, 
On sunsets rock.
Summers hot breezes brush,
Against bare skins flesh.
Stalking the ageless path.
Behold histories Indian brave, 
Man, and horse intertwined.
Symbiotic beings joined,
They are one.
The spirit rider gallops, 
Across freedoms trail.
Cautiously, allying arrow unto bow,
Aiming swiftly his shot to kill.
Guardian’s raging bull charges,
Forward.
Protectors sacrifice, blood mingles,
Amongst dust clouds aftermath, 
His majesty lies slain.
Dark brown eyes close, 
Glimpsing blue sky for the,
Last time.
Heavens prairies, welcome destiny's,
Honorable foe,
The hunter kneels beside the giant's,
Stilled heart,
Giving thanks, singing chants rise,
Ascending heights greener, 
Pastures unto a higher plain.
It echoes in valleys deep,
Touching the lands of his,
 Fore fathers.
Tonight beneath flames tribal fires,
Rhythms beating drums, gives praise,
Many shall celebrate, feasting,
 In memories tribute,

  BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Free verse | |

The Cowboy Life I Love

I squint my eyes from the glaring sun
As I drive cattle across the open range.
I am the youngest hand, so I ride drag
Covered by the dust stirred into the wind.

This is the life I have chosen
To hear the steady creaking of my saddle
The songs of the cowboys as they lead the herd
The lowing cattle as they smell water.

This is the life I live
To see the endless stretches of prairie
The hens and rabbits scuttling away
The ponderous beasts flowing in a living stream.

This is the life I love
Watching the horses graze peacefully at night
The cattle milling about during my night ride
My horse's gentle breathing as I circle them.

May this be my lot while here I remain
May I drink from the freely flowing streams
And breathe the pairie air until I die.

Whether life be short or long
May I ever onward toil, and be content
With the satisfaction of honest work
With the steady pounding of hooves
Biscuits and chili by a wavering fire
And sleeping under the sky on the open range.


Details | Free verse | |

A Horse Life

In a horse life.We can play with a burlap feed
bag, an empty milk jug, or chew on the barn stall
door.Just to kill some time, or to kill some every
day bordom.In a horse life.We get names like
Black Beauty, Flicka, Seabiscuit, or Secretariat.
In a horse life.We do tricks like bowing our heads
down, or placing our shoe upon a pedastool.Picking
up the cowboy hat.While tapping our feet rata-tat-tat.
In a horse life.We like a good block of salt.With lots
of minerals, to lick upon.A wholesome bale of hay.To
start off a brand new day.Or a bucket of grain.To keep
us all healthy, fat, and sane.And a fresh bucket of water, 
to wash it all down.In a horse life.I could be losing a 
horseshoe.While the rider is losing his mind.In a horse
life.We can be a workhorse, a race horse, or a trick pony.
Or maybe a showhorse, or possibly a circus horse.With
out all the phoney baloney.In a horse life.We can run all
day in the open sun, or run the race trak.While the betters
place their wagers.Of course, at the horse racing track
betters window.In a horse life..

A Horse Life Poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2011,2014..All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

They Hang Horses, Don't They

They Hang Horses, Don't They?

Once a strange structure appeared in a barn yard
difficult not to  notice
A scaffold to hang horses
for throwing their masters
Dumb and never protesting
they were led up the ramp
built like a stairway to heaven
There was never any 
last minute salvation
No 'Pegasus' wings that
sprouted from the withers
Hooves crossed on the chest 
each was duly blest
and I wonder if each
mistook the noose for
a lasso around its neck
With one somb're bell a'ringing
The hangman pulled the lever
'There are no last minute requests
for horses being executed'

Justice done again?
yet it seems
in the equine world
hanging has served 
as no deterrant
Inherant in all horses
is an urge to 
throw their masters.


Details | Free verse | |

FEEDING HORSES

FEEDING  HORSES


She was four years old
Apples in bulging pockets from garden trees
Cold day in autumn
Stroll down to Paddy Sands’s horse pasture


Stop at five-bar gate and lift her up
Call or whistle - they come from a half-kilometre
Black, brown mares, one gelding
Jealous one tries to bite the others
Jostling for position at the gate 


All those soft soft noses..... 
They will permit stroking
If fed enough handfuls of grass
Grass tastes better from our hands
Than when cropped by them,
(Especially with tiny flowers of blue vetch).
Their big brown eyes close up
So peaceful and trusting
Tempting furry ears just out of reach for her 


Turning cold now after half an hour
Spoil them with our apples before we go home
Show her how to hold back her thumb 
So  it doesn’t get bitten.
Walk home through Sands’s cropped  hayfield 
To tea and biscuits.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Written for Carol Brown's Contest 	"A Horse Story"



Details | Free verse | |

A Gift Horse


In Australian vernacular
he was a ‘flea-bitten’ grey.
Not dappled like a dream horse
but speckled like a rock and not a 
fine large horse like Tom Cable’s
roman-nosed, “Major.”

Dad, had traded for him- two rolls of barbed wire
and a fence strainer.  He came with a used saddle
 and bridle and the high spirits of
 the seldom ridden.

Before he would let us mount him, Dad
knew he had to take the 'curry' out of him.
 Rode him hard, through a ploughed paddock.
Rode him until he stood in a foaming sweat
ears sideways, subdued.

I can’t forget being led, those first few rides
“Don’t let go of his head, Dad” I’m not ready
yet,” and I knew the horse sensed the trembling
 in my being, until one day his bone- jarring trot
 became a solved puzzle.
I felt a gathering- a sense of balance between the 
pony’s mouth, the stirrups and the reins
and from a secret fulcrum
I was posting, “Let him go now, Dad”
I shouted, and my heart and  soul were
 floated to some rhythmic magic.
Around the homestead once and back
I cantered
 
I pulled the reins, “Whoa boy!”

That first halt, obeyed,  filled my head
for days and days.

Suzanne Delaney


Details | Free verse | |

Green Horse Trough

Hot sun on my back, leaning over the horse trough,
scrubbing the green slim off the sides.
The edge burns my hands and arms as I look for a hold,
Finally cooling the rim with water from the pump.

The bouquet from the trough instantly painted a familiar picture
Of hot, still summer lakes,
Sitting under ancient willows,
Fishing for what ever small life would sacrifice itself to a young fisherman.

Water bugs scoot around the tall grasses ringed with green algae.
Teased by a breeze, willow fingers wrap around a daydream.
One of conquering its mighty branches, with tree houses and rope swings,
While crawdads keep stealing the bait.

The water is clean and clear and cool again.
With memories of her own, my horse pays homage to my work
By burying her face in the trough up to her eyes,
And blowing bubbles out of her nose.


(Some warm nostalgia for a cold winter day.)


Details | Free verse | |

Magic horse

Black horse,
Magic horse,
Carry me away,
Over the river,
Across the bay
To the sandy beach
Where i can play.

Black horse,
Magic horse,
Carry me away,
Over the seas
To the forest trees
Where i can watch 
The tiger cubs play.

Black horse,
Magic horse,
Carry me away,
To artic snow
Where the cold wind blows
Where i can watch
The polar bears play

Black horse,
Magic horse,
Carry me away,
To golden sands
In far away lands
Where the seas are blue
And i can play all day


Details | Free verse | |

Unicorn Hoofprints

Unicorn Hoofprints 

One morning I awoke to find
 in  soft garden shadows
 mythical, unicorn, hoof prints 

How I imagined its perfect form; 
a magical horse with a spiraled horn
 stepping through a pink mist
 into my garden at dawn 

I decide I will hide
 where the first light
 slants through the trees
 my heart all aflutter, 
 waiting to see this miracle.
 

A rustle of leaves- 
I hold my breath - 
ready to face
 the impossible

Oh! Disbelief!  What do I see?
But two horse shoes attached to sticks
 and father planting mythical hoof prints 


Quiet as a fae I steal away
and later with wonder, I softly say 

"A unicorn has strayed, Pa Pa-
into our garden today."

Suzanne Delaney 


Details | Free verse | |

The Empty Saddle

They formed a posse and it was loaded

Three experienced  at tracking

And their guide

He was a one-legged kangaroo

No one dared to waltz with him

Even Matilda kept clear

The heat  was unbearable

Australia

And no one liked bank robbers

Crossing upstream the three rode through rapids

One horse was bitten by a bee

It startled him and reared

Throwing the third rider into the rapids

One scream and carried downstream

The other two rode the banks and the rapid

And their one legged kangaroo hopped

One hop forward but always angles

They came to a suddenly quiet pool

They saw a hat that was clear

The horse whinnied and a single tear

The kangaroo was exhausted and thought of a new line of work

His master lay face down and floated 

The three horses gazed at the floater

And the two men followed their  lead

And what about the bank robbers

They had a pint



A Lil' Bit of Aus... Free Poetry Contest
Sponsor	Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver  


Details | Free verse | |

Rain, The Story 1 of 3

Entry submitted in honor of - Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~

Rain, The Story  1/ 3

I am telling you a story of a lovely girl Rain,
So cute and charming she was, 
Like a fairy or a refreshing drop of rain.

Rain had two heavenly white horses,
Beautiful, fierce and bold, like demons on earth,
She used to ride these bold and beautiful, one by one and
They liked Rain, like a fairy from heaven.

She had named the male horse as Past, and the female as Future,
Every day, she used to talk with them like humans, 
As they were accomplishing, many of her unusual thoughts. 

One day, while she was standing, beside her horse named Past,
Rain was trying to read in his lovely eyes,
The golden pages of her bygone past,
She knew that only her lovely friend Past,
Could bring back to her, the memories of her,
Most cherished love Aiden and the images of her lovely past, 
As only few years back,  she had lost her love Aiden.				

Her most dear lovely horse Past
Was a brilliant piece of creation,
Having the silk color,  of ivory white,
He was even capable to unfold before Rain,  
Those bygone images and stories of Rain’s lovely past,
When she used to often fly and dance like a butter fly,
And felt blooming like the petals of a lovely yellow Rose,
Amid the company of her love Aiden, she unfortunately lost.

She came close, to her dear graceful Horse Past
And looked deep into the mysterious eyes of her favorite Past,
The Horse Past came to know immediately, 
What Rain was trying to find, in the eyes of her dear friend Past,
Next moment, she felt mesmerized and lost in a new world, 
Created by the wonderful eyes of her brilliant horse Past.

In the enchanting depths, of the horse eyes,
She began to feel herself comfortable and completely lost,
Rain felt as if she was standing, on a ground full of ice like sand,
Where her love Aiden was calling her, from a little far off,  
A little away from her, but not too close,
Aiden had extended his hands to take her in his arms.		

She ran to meet her love and to be in his strong lovely arms,
Embracing, kissing and looking without moving her eyes from him,
This was always a passion for Rain, like a dream thought.

Ravindra
Kanpur India 28th Dec. 2010				Continue in part 2

Contest entry:        For this contest only
Contest Name:       Rain, The Story
Sponsored by:        Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Written by:	       Ravindra K Kapoor



Details | Free verse | |

Race Day

Loaded in the starting gate
Who will win nobody knows
The buzzer sounds
And off they go 
Thundering down the track
Jockey's on thier back 
Riding with adrenaline
Making thier way around the bend 
To the home stretch
Thier hoofs thundering like a storm 
Down the path to victory
First, second, and third 
Winning by a nose 
The amazing thrill of race day


Details | Free verse | |

Love riding

When I'm riding
I feel free.
All my worries, 
go away.
And I love the 
Feel of the wind in my hair.
I feel free. 
I feel like myself on a horse.


Details | Free verse | |

My True Beauty

Eyes brown
Knowing intelligent
Brunette hair
Following behind 
As you run
Gentle loving
Enjoying others

Legs and hips
Most beautiful 
I've seen
Torso
Michaelangelo
Could sculpt

You turn around
Well shaped rear
Tail swishing 

To flick
Away the
Flies


Details | Free verse | |

Rain, The Story 2 of 3

Entry submitted in honor of - Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~


Rain, The Story  2 / 3		


In those beautiful moments, what she was feeling
Was only an illusion of Aiden, created by her blessed horse Past,
She was aware that she had only few more such moments,
To enjoy the pleasures of Aiden’s company and  
To get completely melt and lost, 
In the lovely soothing, enfolds and embraces of Aiden. 

She felt, while in the arms of her princely love, Aiden, 
As if, the entire universe was flying and dancing and
A soft melody was flowing in the air, 
Making her to feel,  the ecstasies of joys and pains.

The illusion was touching her mind and heart and it was
Filling her with the sensations of an unusual lore.
The sensations she felt, in the arms of her love  
Was beyond her imagination and perhaps,
It cannot be described in words.

She cried in an ecstasy of joy and mirth and closed her eyes,
So that her Love may not get lost, when she returns,
From the enchanting world of her dear Past.

She was trying to grasp every image of joys, 
As if, she was blessed to preserve these serene moments, 
Given by her lost love Aiden, who was standing right before Rain, although,
Rain had lost her love Aiden, many years back, 
When he went in a battle and became a martyr for a great cause.

Suddenly she felt the warmth of a touch, 
Close to her lovely hairs and neck,  given by her darling horse.
Past appeared to be saying to her,  to come back
From the depths of his eyes,  into the normal world of life.

She slowly opened her eyes and found,
The alluring images of her love were over, 
Only Horse Past and Future were standing very close to her, and 
Her horse Past was saying in his own language, 
She should now wake-up from the dreams of her love.

She was aware that her horses were blessed to create only illusions, 
For a very short period.  
Past knew that after some moments,  
His powers to create the illusions would not work and before that,
Past wanted Rain to return in her normal world.

Horse Past silently told her by his expressions,  
It is now time to come back, 
Into the world of the realities of Life.

Even in his silent language Past appeared to be conveying, that  
Rain should find a new Love, 
Instead of searching her future, in the lost and bygone days of her past.

Ravindra

Concluded in part 03

Contest entry:       For this contest only
Contest Name:       Rain, The Story
Sponsored by:        Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Written by:	       Ravindra K Kapoor



Details | Free verse | |

Rain, The Story 3 of 3

Entry submitted in honor of - Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~

Rain, The Story  3/3

Her horse Past, wished that she should be with her new love,
So that, Rain may find a new loving companion,
To complete her future journey with a new experience,
In the world of love, happiness, joys and even pains too, but  
Rain should try not to live any more,
In the world of fake happiness and alluring illusions,
Created by her horses Future and Past. 

Her horse Past was happy to see, in the eyes of his friend Rain, 
The seeds of a self made future and hopes to find a new life of love.

Rain looked in the eyes of her other horse Future and
Found the same message, as she had seen on the face of Past,
She knew that if she would look into the eyes of Future,
Horse Future would show, the glimpse of her new love to Rain, with whom
Rain may go ahead further in her life, but,
She made up her mind not to look into,
The enchanting eyes of her horses Past and Future,
Until she can live on herself, for building her new fate for her and a new future.

She was more confident now and looked towards the rising Sun,
As the Sun was inviting her to keep walking,
With confidence and smile to face and make her new destiny.

Rain kissed her best friends Past and Future and told them that,
She would not be asking them to show,  her past or future again,
As she was now full of confidence, to face any situation,
For building her own fortune and future,
However, she would like them to be with her, as her best friends forever.

The charming and lovely Rain,  
Now blessed with a new life of confidence,
Moved ahead with her two beautiful horses,
To face the life,  in its true colors on her own,
Without fearing the risks of the future and 
Caring for the dread of past.

Thus started the new journey of fairy like beautiful Rain, 
In search of her love and adventures…

Ravindra
Kanpur India 28th Dec. 2010 

Contest entry:         For this contest only
Contest Name:       Rain, The Story
Sponsored by:        Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Written by:	       Ravindra K Kapoor


Details | Free verse | |

Rainbow Waves

Rainbow waves 
Churning towards the shore 
Like horses, 
Their windswept manes 
Dancing 
Through the colors 
Of the spectrum


Details | Free verse | |

THE DUKE

A lone rider sits high in the saddle,
As the horizon's sunrise spreads across,
The open prairie.
Twin pearl handed pistols rest at his side,
As rusty spires clang against wooden planks,
At the deadwood saloon.
Legends cowboys whisper his name,
On the dry desert winds,
A giant of a man whom breathed
Life again into the legacy,
 Of the old west.
His side swagger's walk trademark
On the larger than a life screen.
The duke truly represents the great 
American hero on horse back.
Six shooters drawn at high noon's 
Count down,
John Wayne's the trail dusts equalizer,
He always remained on the right side,
Of tin stars law.
The tumble weeds rolls along a dirt path,
As tall cactus stand on an arried canvas,
Life here is harsh and mean,
Where only the strong survive.
Bold individuals with the inner
Strength against god's forbidden land.
Harden men whom lived by one simple,
Rule I will do what ever it takes
To stay alive.
He'll join the ghost riders,
Forever driving the lords herds
Across the grand divides vast
Prairie sky’s as the sunsets
In the old west.
Alone figure rides high in saddle,
Set against a legends back drop,
Hell bound for glory,
In a cloud of gun smokes fog,
Behold the duke emerges,
With his hat on straight
And gun at the ready.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Free verse | |

Train Journey

I sit here by the window
and watch quietly
as the train moves along
Outside
I see land - 
wild beautiful land
still untouched by man
and it creates within me
a feeling that is wild and boundless

The beautiful trees
in many places
so closely clustered together
though of mixed species
seem to cry out 
a message of love and unity
to all mankind
I see flowers - 
plain simple flowers
there is a beauty in them - 
the beauty of simplicity

There are children on the hillsides -
the country folk
people call them
My heart sings as I watch them
They know us not on the train
but yet they wave at us
and we wave back at them
because their action is filled 
with some sentiment 
that is pleasing to us

Shimmering little pools of water
pulsating with life
appear and then vanish
out of sight
but the picture of life
within them
remains with me

The cows and the horses 
graze in the pastures
some sit
others browse slowly along
O how I envy their leisurely
pace of life!


Details | Free verse | |

The Horse Of My Dreams

THE HORSE OF MY DREAMS
The horse of my dreams
Is white as snow
His eyes like chocolate
His feet graceful and strong
His mane is beautiful
Like the summer
His legs shift
Side to side, sturdy.


Details | Free verse | |

Rolling in the Mud

The smell of a horse
Like a rose to my love
My favourite cologne

Stables and horse dung
Work that's so messy
Better than sitting at my desk

Groomed and brushed nicely
Halter and saddle on
Hooking up as One

Man-Horse

Subtly we speak
A squeeze with my knee
Trotting we go

Speak so softly 
A gentle creature
One ear ahead

An Ear back to Me

A days ride has ended
Watered and fed
Led out to the paddock

All that grooming for naught
As the gate is closed 
Rolling in the mud

White horse no more


Details | Free verse | |

Gunfight in old Abilene

              Gunfight in old Abilene

With his hat drawn way down, reins loose in his hands
His horse sweating pints, the sun burning down
The dust from the trail was choking his throat
The Abilene sign, said, two miles to go

He rode into town, stared the folk down
He pulled up his horse at the watering trough
All scuttled inside as his boot hit the ground
The word was soon spread, that he was in town

His aim to avenge, a brother who’d died
By hand of a cowpoke, o’er game o’ cards
Known to be cheating and fast with a gun
He’d drawn and fired on unarmed man

Stepped out the poke, with a gun on each side
The stranger he sees with a look in his eye
Some paces they took, no words were exchanged
They stood face to face, staring each down 

Silence it fell, the nerves were of steel
Dust blew around on the faintest of breeze
The desolate street, unreal in the scene
The stranger stood waiting, death in his eye

The air, it was crushed, as the guns they were fired
Bullets passed wild, on wings of hate
A thud, a cry, a hit was made
One fell to the ground, the sun burning down

The dust and the smoke, cleared from the air
Onto the street, the folks gathered round
Amazed at the speed the actions had been
Declaring the duel had seen a fair fight

He mounted his horse, tugged brim of hat, 
His mission complete, justice on course
A man of the old west who never looked back
Where sun had gone down for the poke on the ground








Details | Free verse | |

There Are No Coincidences

For every rose there are six thorns.
Calm is an interlude between two storms.
A judge is a lawyer off his meds.
Life is a road, living it is a rut.
A lion is a tiger on parole.
Moonlight is a reflection from the sun.
A smile is a frown turned upright.
Lust is passion gone astray.
A child is proof that life goes on.
Not every house becomes a home.
A jihadist is Hitler’s bastard son.
The Devil is a psychopath.
For a working stiff job loss is a bitter pill.
To a rich man unemployment is no big deal.
A road less traveled is an awful waste.
Success is failure overcome.
A single grain of corn is a meager meal.
Raindrops are the tears of a caring God.
A politician is a well paid clown. 
All love has the potential for heartbreak.
A loogie is spit on steroids.
The unicorn is a horse’s wet dream.
A tornado is a piss ant hurricane.
Suicide is the proof that you were insane.


Details | Free verse | |

''Horse Drawn Dreams''

Daddy bought me a filly named ''Champagne Taste''.
Smitten by the thought someday she would race.
Slender,sleek,course mane.
Shaped as elegant as a European statuette.
I trained,coached her every move.
Her strength with age continued to improve.
Thoroughbred beauty,your lifetime of wins.
Memories still remain in our trophy case.
Beloved horse I could never replace.



''A Horse Story'' Poetry Contest
sponsored by...Carol Brown


Details | Free verse | |

Horse Racing 8

Look at us as we do not fit.
your poems vs my poems
your attitude vs my attitude
all there
like we play in a super porn movie
directed by Shakespeare
that trying to reinvent the mirage
between the camera and our ****ing 
says STOP

- I want to talk only about daggers, not to use them.
and everything will be ok.


Details | Free verse | |

Winter Scene

A snow pony and sled
The pure mystery of diagonals, gliding
and tinkling bells
Beside a grey-green meadow, shadow less
down snow lanes with plumes of breath,
mystical from its nostrils
Stone carved but alive in shape and form
The snow crunches under its animated hooves
This sled streaming through a pure, white domain

A temporary yet, timeless feeling world.
 
Suzanne Delaney


Details | Free verse | |

A horse in my reading room

A horse in my reading room at my study table from my very childhood days, galloping as if never to stop, perhaps the fastest and oldest horse of the world. Its shiny black skin reflects the sky. Its beauty is like that of a sleek poem rhyming down the page dancing merrily, or an arrow zooming past everything leaving a trail of invisible impression in the air to reach its target. The horse definitely has a target. My father knew it, as he sketched it for me. He used to say frequently, "Life is motion with a target". To him the horse was the symbol of life. Twelve years have passed since my father's death, the horse is still galloping.... perhaps it knows its target.... but I am still looking for mine.... **My late father had the God gifted ability to sketch and paint like an artist.A true story. © kashinath karmakar (15th June 2011) ============================== Placement : 6th (June 2011) Contest:A Horse Story Sponsor:Carol Brown


Details | Free verse | |

They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

To  tame a horse in freezing winter 

One plays a childish "hide and seek" 

Caress its mane with future spring 

and kiss the hazel moist with love.


Distract its pain with sandy gallops 

Along the turquoise dreams of freedom 

And while you heal the reddish wound 

Recount the legend of the horse with wings.

 
There won't be saddles only clouds 

That sometimes shed rainbows of tears 

As darkness falls on killing fields 

My soul is neighing as echoes cry...

www.scripca.com


Details | Free verse | |

Horse racing 3

watching you without knowing
it's all there
how I adore you.
I am in this body for a while
and I never had a better angle
as I have with your lips
to breath
and breathe
waiting.


Details | Free verse | |

They Shoot Horses, Don't They

To tame a horse in freezing winter 

One plays a childish "hide and seek" 

Caress its mane with future spring 

and kiss the hazel moist with love.

Distract its pain with sandy gallops 

Along the turquoise dreams of freedom 

And while you heal the reddish wound 

Recount the legend of the horse with wings.

 
There won't be saddles only clouds 

That sometimes shed rainbows of tears 

As darkness falls on killing fields 

My soul is neighing as echoes cry...



 


Details | Free verse | |

The Man Who Loved Rain Woman

She loved him when she was a young girl, stepping softly on the rocks,
Holding her basket close, as rain fell on her dampened hair;
Seeing him across the river, she raised her eyes to his, and smiled;
Looking upon The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.

Her love grew stronger when they first knew each other, 
Silently, among the towering pines, hidden from their families, 
She reached her hand to his, loving him as rain and thunder raged;
Giving herself to The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.

Her love grew stronger when they defied their fathers and rode away,
Running the white horse full out against the wind, as rain pounded the world;
Laughing as she laid her face against his back, seeking shelter,
Resting upon The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.

Her love grew stronger when she felt the consequences,
Of losing all she knew, all she was born to be,
A woman who chose to live hard and uncertain;
Keeping with The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.

Her love grew stronger when they birthed their child,
He easing the child from her heaving body,
She looking silently to the heavens as rain melted her tears;
Trusting in The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.

Her love grew stronger when their children grew away,
And he became restless, longing for his lands, his heritage;
Leaving her on a day of bitter darkness, rain fell on his bowed head;
Looking away from him, pulling inward, her sorrow met the rain;
Grieving for The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.

On a day when rain softly touched the world,
He returned to her, with fear in his eyes --
She had never seen him afraid;
He told her he had dreamed of the white horse,
Running full out against the wind,
Ridden by The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.

Her tears fell upon his face
And became the rain,
As she held him close,
And the day faded from his eyes.

The white horse thundered towards the heavens,
Running full out against the wind as she leaned against his neck.
Her tears pounded the world as she rode against the wind,
Urging her spirit horse to mount faster towards the sky.

She is Rain Woman, daughter of the spirit god,
Riding upon the white horse, thundering across the skies,
Her tears of pain and sorrow fall upon the earth;
Mourning The Man Who Loved Gimiwanookwe.


[Written by Deb Radke for the contest 'Rain, The Story',
sponsored by Constance La France.]

[‘Gimiwanookwe’ from the Ojibwe language meaning ‘Rain Woman’.  This poem is based on nothing other than my imagination, and I mean no disrespect to the Ojibwe peoples.]


Details | Free verse | |

Schooling The Young Horse

Rabbits, hens, and elephants respond
According to the signals communicated--
What is the use of running?
It is forbidden   --by your hand.
Here we try to escape artfully.
Where is the exit?
Donde esta la salida?  Por favor.
No salida But we sell souvenir postcards.
After the show.

(This might all happen in a moment of decision)

Give me to be manifest and free and
As yet untamed
As the wind.
How significant do you regard freedom to be?
Freedom to be...

It's a good thing you were taken from the fields.
The buffalo people are gone.
It's a good thing you abandoned the sky,
Now eagles are leaving their nesting places
To fall quicker than shooting stars.


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Star Steed

Writing musical notes with magical hoofs
enchanted, I  ride on a mystical,
jet black dream steed.
Proud head barely constained by a
pure white bridle and snow white reins,
my pale chiffon gown,
floats near his flanks speaking
of innocence, flounces gathered by 
tiny, pink rosebuds and white gardenias,

Slow motion, dreamlike,
the night sky behind us like a
dark, demonic power as we
become starlight. 


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Forever Rider

Bleached bones of a fallen beast, Casting a shadow that points To the east, A cowboy rides out With a noose round his neck, Travelling north on a Perilous trek. The noose is a reminder That his life is not his, Not that he needs it To tell him the truth, He's atoning for sins Committed by him And the noose is just there For some proof. His horse pointing northwards, His spurs jab its flanks, It jumps on a journey It knows not to where, He has been advised If he gets where he must That he must handle all things With great care. Long weeks follow days, He ne'er stops for food, He feels neither hunger, Nor thirst or fatigue, His Horse is the same, Feeling neither hunger or pain, Though they travel on league After league. He stops on the brow Of a mountainous peak, To gain the bearings He felt he had lost. His eyes sweep the plains He travels in vain, Without ever revealing The cost. His life had been shortened For the most part by death, He had suffered For what he had done, His actions alone Had been the sole cause Of the loss of his wife And his son. And so for his torment He had been given a task, That he knew he must Always repeat, There was no respite And no task to be done And his journey would be Never complete. And so he rides on O'er the endless red plain, Destined as ever to Be all alone, And maybe one day His skull will be seen By another as abandoned Bleached bone....


Details | Free verse | |

The Beauty of Nature

Observing the beauty of nature is akin to an awakening to the senses,
of being free and anonymous, 
of being purposeless,
that exquisite innate feeling of total compassion.

The abundance of colours in a deep autumn forest,
the hazy mist around the water and the trees of a dawning day
those hidden shadows of light and shade,
the ethereal beauty of affinity between horses and humans.

Stillness,
the trickling stream through the fields,
the rustling of autumn leaves,
a neigh, the swishing tail, the galloping hooves.

Clean and crisp,
the intoxicating and seductive fragrance of an autumn forest
the damp earth mingled with old fallen leaves
the quintessential scent of  a horses mane and fur

That tingling feeling 
being engulfed by wind and rain, sun and warmth, mist and dampness,
the lightest caress,
the warmth of the horses cheek against ones own

Nature is precious, it is profoundly beautiful.


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Rodeoman is here for contest

Saying your a rodeo rider
Makes it sound so much fun
But living hand to mouth
I assure you isnt fun at all

Make sure your timid horse
Is well fed and warm
Your second in this pecking order
Keeping well is your aim

Driving from one venue
To another i assure you  isnt good
But the visions that you see at night
Makes the journey understood

The rising and the setting sum
Is a feast for the eyes
A mental picture that you carry
When your mouth is dusty and dry

When saddling up that muscular horse
To ride into the arena
An adrenaline rush is prevalent
To ride  those 8 seconds clean

The satisfaction of big money
When winners are announced
Makes all worthwhile for you
To saddle up for another  event

So I tap my hat
Pack up my gear
Pick up a six pack
A few hours to sleep.
Before the next journey 

So watch out
A Rodeoman is coming to town.


Details | Free verse | |

Stud

In a Stable 
A handsome stud waits
With a mane black as coal 
His coat a shiny black under his blanket
With eyes brown as the maple bark
Longing for attenion
His mind wonders 
As he moves his head 
Left to right 
Hoping for his master


Details | Free verse | |

Being Shod

A warm Spring's fragrant wind
lifts leaf shadows as, molten metal
sizzles from the sudden wet plunge
A farrier holds firm the muddy fetlock
while on three legs a plough horse 
stands, docile beneath the hammer blows

A brown eye shines and gently
 shuts- he lets a practised hand
glide over sweat-stained withers
that wiggle when a fly lands

The first foot falls- a soft
snort from a velvet muzzle as he
lifts the other to be shod

Soft hooves becoming, iron clad

 Suzanne Delaney


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Apocalypse Risen

Moon light impotent Stables darkness impenetrable For only the horseman may enter Those without souls do find their way World will end by hand of few men Those incompetent of compassion and caring The ones who look out only for their heir While suffering and strife consume A time will come when the mass will form Breaking the barriers, seemingly impervious Where all may have what they do need Water, love, home and seed Until such time, which may never appear Stables darkness will remain Its halls quite For the four horses are being ridden today


Details | Free verse | |

Spirit of Horse and Man

The rider accepts the horse and the horse accepts the man.
No man rides a horse… It’s a dance in poise and symmetry as one.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
The power is felt in the movement as the horse stretches out its gate.
The muscles move beneath the man with power waiting to escape.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
The fluidity of the gate is matched by the fluidity of the man.
The nostrils flair in both… The dance has just begun…
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
If they do not work together… They will not work at all.
The horses’ mane like the mans’ hair, is held tight in the flowing wind.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
With each step they take… A balance must be struck.
For every step they take… Their intent must be as one.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
The spirit of the horse must merge with the spirit of the man.
Together they merge in a symbiotic relationship as old as horse and man.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
Feel the movement… Feel the power… Feel each muscle as it moves.
Feel each breeze unfold… Feel their hearts and souls as they meld as one.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
Point to counter point… The man doesn’t own the horse or the horse the man.
What looks so easy is not a simple thing as they travel forth as one.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
The connection is tightly woven. This spirit of Horse and man.
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump
And with each ride together they will meld again as one…
Thump, Thump…Thump, Thump


Details | Free verse | |

A Wishful Horse

If wishes were horses,
And I was a stallion,
Would you ride me home?
Would you ride me to the comfort of your heart?
Would you keep me in the finest confines of your soul's house?
Would you caress my beastly body with your soft hands?
Would I afford the pleasure of your whispers in my ears?
Would you please my soul with your soulful laughter?
Would you ride me through the dullest of days;
through the darkest of nights?
Would you dry your tears upon my willing neck?
Would you give  me a name to bear forever?

Or would you just pass me by,like any other beast?
Would just throw me a soulless glance and fade away-
like mist chancing upon sunlight?
Or would you stroke me a little, the decide I'm not worth it?
Would you look me in the eye and walk away?
Would you let my eyes see you go through the tears?

Tell me Love,if you'd rather not see my heart tear apart,
Why are wishes not horses-
Why am I not your stallion?


Details | Free verse | |

The Waiting

I waited patiently with bated breath
Beneath the banyan tree
On a cloudless starry night
Far away from the city light
Waiting for the sound of my beloved beau
Wide eyes darting to and fro
In a distance I see a horse trot by
Off jumped the horseman and ran to my side
“I am sorry Miss there has been a twist
My Master has been called to enlist
He has sent you these flowers and a little ring
And has asked you to wait until spring”
Off went the horseman on his horse so swift
I stare into my hands at the little gifts
Tears spilling down in tiny rivulets


Details | Free verse | |

In My Mind

Within the passage of time
I see you, my enchanted ecstasy,walking
Down a cobblestone street in silhouette.
Carefully placed footsteps echoing the
The pavement without the slightest of regrets.
Through the faint gas lit corridor
Vintage smells and a whispering wind
Accompany me.
Now matter where I go -
No matter when I go –
Footsteps going forward
Revealing the past.

In a cumbersome transom blended 
With a tap-ta-tap, tap-ta-tap
Of a horse drawn carriage –
Therein our song is revealed.
Where else but in music do thoughts 
Blend reality with emotions?
There in my mind’s eye
Tap-ta-tap,
tap-ta-tap,
tap-ta-tap.

Do I have any life but this?
If not - let me lead it from here.
No death there be ‘lest
Dispelled from there.
Nor any ties to earths to come.
Nor any action in any effort of new.
Except in the blessed extent
In the realm of loving you.

And in my mind’s eye –
The music,
Tap-ta-tap,
tap-ta-tap -
Of cobblestone and hoof –
Ta-tap
Always 
Ta-tap
Returns me to you.


Details | Free verse | |

Spooky The Spooky Horse

Where did my horse go? Spooky was off
in a flash.A horse with lightning speed.He
made his ungrateful dash.Because the barn
door was open, and ole Spooky was gone.
Maybe it was a grizzly bear, or possibly the
grey fox, or even a mountain lion? Whoever
or whatever it was, it got ole Spooky crying, 
and now that ole gray stallion is off a flying.
Spooky the spooky horse was his name.
And running real fast was always his game.
Lately! Spooky would wonder off to places
where nobody could find him.Hiding behind
trees deep in the dark green forest.But when
his master came a calling.Ole Spooky came
a crawling.Crawling back to the barn he knew
so well.Then came a night that was dark, and
full of fright.Spooky heard noises, he had never
heard before.This time Spooky was spooked
so bad.He crashed right through the old barn
door.Off he ran again, into the wild blue yonder.
Didn't wait a minute to look, or even ponder.It
was Spooky the spooky horse again.When 
does the story continue? And how does the
story end? Becase Spooky the spooky horse
was off in a flash.. 

Spooky Horse Poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2003,2014..All Rights Reserved.


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The Icon of Heroes- Maharana Pratap

His name is evoked with boundless esteem
By the strata of generations down the ages 
The prodigious son of our holy motherland
Who embodied valour and chivalry to the hilt.

He could have lead a princely life of comfort
By conceding the honour of his blessed land
But happily chose a life similar to his terrain
Instead of beating the same refrain like peers.

He embodied all that stands for grit and nerve    
Inspired the masses by an outstanding example
Sent shivers down the spine of the adversaries
And won admiration even from his sworn foes.

His form awe-inspiring stays etched in minds 
Reviving the memories of his sacrifice great  
That arouses the most weak and low-spirited
Infuses the spirit with verve and vim; enviable.

Even today he is revered as a symbol of bravery
With very few peers to match his place in history
He strode like a colossus on the sands of time
The Maharana is worthy of salute for all time.

Till his last breath he worshiped his motherland
A crest jewel among all valiant warriors of the land
He the great, his loyal Chetak, the gallant steed
To all such immortals, we all owe our gratitude.


Details | Free verse | |

Colcannon

We broke bread at dawn
Cold and shivering
Faces dirty, hearts weary
the kettle boiling over
a dying fire
tea meant to soothe 
our bones and joints aching
a bubbling soup hits our
nauseous bellies and
we fight to keep the swill down
covered in grease from that
horse we had to put down yesterday
war is no place for a noble beast
but man feels right at home
at first. and then he longs
for his own hearth
the wooden floors muddy
with boot and paw prints
ears burning from the 
wife's incessant nagging
and the fresh scent of
laundry set out to dry
left overnight. again.
the grunt of the pigs
digging in the slop.
Slop far more agreeable than 
this soup.
And that trusty steed alone in the stable.
But a fence has no business caging 
a noble beast.
A man feels right at home. At first.
But then he longs for those nights of his
youth.
The girls, the wine, the merriment.
The friends, long gone in some war. 
Perhaps this one.
No one to answer to but his dog
His own two legs carry him everywhere
Free, free is the only place for a noble beast
But a man is no horse.
Though he is a beast.


Details | Free verse | |

Cowboys In The Badlands

  
Cowboys In The Badlands


I have travelled many destinations known to man.
These lands of tumbling tumble weeds do wreck-havoc on my horse.
At times the ride through this quaint baron land, is like hell has no fury against the wilds of this dry dusty sand of the badlands of Texas. In these times of the civil war, the army brought in a Colonel who had gathered a posse, to save their wives and sisters to which the Apache thus kept them captives; in the badlands of Texas of the Gulf of Mexico. The Colonel and his men made it to Corpus Cristi without losing any men. They had travelled lightly through Arkansas and Indian Territory with only one mishap along the way. They only lost one horse, the renegade natives took their horse, saddle and their food. Thus they had to find food to fill their bellies to keep their men content. Those hills up there along the divide of the badlands surely will have some berries and alternate supply of food. For this I’ll have to take one man to fill our bag with food. You Jake, will take of the men horses and camp. This may be the badlands but with all these small hills one can be hidden indefinitely and not be in view of renegades to do us in.  The Apache and the Blackfoot are not friends. Cowboy Joe knew how to draw his trusty twenty-six gun pistal with a fast force 
within, not even Jesse James could outwit him. Cowboy Joe knew the chief of the Blackfoot Nation, they had become friends quite easily. He knew how formidable they could be.  For they had formed a complete comraderie. In these vast and lonely hills the badlands of Texas is to be one of their final destinies. With a battle with one of their enemies they had finally rescued there women, sisters and many others. Now they can go through the mighty Badlands full throttle and take their sibling homes and live comfortably.  

Written: Sept.16, 2014


Details | Free verse | |

Caligula

Caligula,boss of the roman empire
he and his horse Incitatus
they ruled with sword and searing fire
his horse was truly audacious

hanging out at the local bar
Incitatus and Caligula gloats
parting never very far
drinking beer and eating oats

Toast to feats and daring raids
on the Gaules of olden France
they teased the nearly naked maids
and tipped them all to dance

the girls would scream with pain
when Incitatus stomped their toes
Caligula ordered a round again
to salute themselves  heros

at two oclock they close the moats
the castle was very far
with too much beer and many oats
they left the local bar!



Details | Free verse | |

Piece Pipes

Peace Pipes


I.

Critics came in hordes
filling the rolling hills of Troy
carting a gift, shadowed.

The moon looked
a silvery wraith
sliced between trees.

Paris stood still, even as it came—
Staring at the dark dot, 
he thought up carriages.

Meanwhile, Helen paced affront him, piratess—
Clutched hands, brow furrowed,
teased by a narrow word.

Concentrated, they bet to see who could reach
the first arm over 
the insides of that horse.

--

Basho confessed:
his horse ate hibiscus, too, 
along the roadside

--

In pursuit,
Paris lamented—
sang songs,
asked his master

Where to find
another 
horse?

He lowered himself
to peer into the round
bright pupils of horses lining his stable 
like chrysanthemum by the roadside
or books stacked upright in libraries.

--

The horse’s footsteps
reverberated fully,
its shoes neighed 
at the stones which sat 
at the embankment 
rounding the castle.

--

And Helen—searching for rites,
perusing a Bible in her tub—
could not, like bread, rise.

--

Here, the horse said:

All the world is selfish, 
all selves self-aware 
of idle minutia. 

The dust will settle
where it will,
in the wherewithal

of time, when 
it shall be most 
mobile, most able.

--

She, overflowing with water, shot up 
for the incoming guests—
paralyzed Pandora.



II.

In pursuit, 
Paris lamented

Where to find
another—?

He lowered himself, 
like Narcissus to peer 
under ground, at the pupils 
of horses laying as
they lined the silver river, 
their spines like books 
stripped of order.

--

And still Helen 
could not, like 
bread, rise again—

Until Paris walked in, 
feet like drums.

Helen, an Aphrodite without arms,
returned his fervent look as only

A frozen Galatea could.

--

Paris sat 
under a tree,
catching pine nuts—
open-mouthed squirrel.

--

When the horse stretched
Its tongue out, 
Blowing breath
Into both their eyes, 
A wraith of smoke escaped.


Details | Free verse | |

Ghost Soldier Part 1

He was there, He told me so!
On that cloudy morning a few years ago,
When a shaft of light from the Montana sky
Fell on his grave and caught my eye.
The raindrops that fell as if tears from the sky
Were quickly absorbed by the earth where he lie.
And he told me, He did, in his very own words
Of those days on the trail and his last day on earth.

"Dust, dust--- two, three or is it four days of this damned cussed dust. It seemed 
an eternity since we left the Rosebud. Why the urgency it was beyond me, but 
when it came to the Indian Custer seemed to have a special mission known only 
to himself.
Push, push, they just kept on pushing us. The horses were caked and white with 
the infernal dust. Even my neckerchief failed to keep the dust from my lungs. I 
was fighting for breath when a halt was called. As I stepped down a lizard 
skittered away from the rock where he had been sunning himself. I looked at 
Tom as he loosened the girth on his saddle trying to give his horse a breather. It 
was laboring for air and blood was in evidence in the foam at the corner of his 
mouth. It had been in a battle the month before and was issued to Tom as a 
replacement for his lame animal. This poor animal wasn’t going to make it much 
farther.
I looked at my horse and decided I’d better check him over while I had a chance. 
He’d been there for me last month as we raced away from a group of renegades 
trying to lift our scalps. When it comes down to life and death all we have are 
each other. I gave him some grain and a much needed but sparse drink. Our 
supplies were following a safe distance behind us, so all we had were saddle 
rations. The spring grass was just beginning to work it’s way thru the earth 
towards the warming rays of the sun. The nights still held the winter chill and yet 
the days seemed insufferably hot. Such a contrast this land presented. You 
either froze to death or you were burned and blistered as if in the fires of hell.
I brushed the damned sand from Poker and checked each hoof for damage. It 
was hard to tell where we’d be next, traveling ankle deep in sand or slipping and 
sliding our way over the loose rocky ground. Satisfied my mount was taken care 
of I removed my neckerchief and dipped it into the few drops of precious water 
Poker couldn’t get. Even it was hot to the touch. The only relief was the cooling 
breeze as it immediately absorbed the moisture from my skin.


Details | Free verse | |

The Stallion

A horse walked in the ring, 
Alone but bold,
A man hollered to move him around,
His tail held high and his neck bowed,
He snorted and bucked in defiance.
The epitome of a spirited beast, 
He looked every bit a stallion.
No one bid,
But save on gal,
A tiny thing who most thought a fool,
At least on that day.
But as time went on, 
That horses spirit never caved.
But the girl was patient, 
And kind,
After a long time that horses will bent,
He was defiant and spirited still,
No mistaking the Stallion he was,
But save for one small girl, 
to whom he gave his heart to.
And day after day,
He willingly rode with her,
Over mountain and field, 
After cow and game.
He loved her you see-and she loved him.
And after a time, 
she went back to that auction ring, 
And with her was that Wild beast
Wild still or so it seemed, 
As he snorted and bucked freely.
But no worries-he wasn't for sale.
He was to be a father this year,
He'd earned the right,
And when she stepped in that ring, 
No defiance was seen.
As he bowed his head and silently gave to her,
Their will seemed unified.
She flowed upon his back, 
And he stopped spun and slid
Like an invisible hand guided him,
No movement of the crowd was seen.
It was true beauty in motion,
A Girl and her horse- One
Suddenly they all wished they'd seen what she'd seen,
Not a horse to be broken,
But a spirit to be fixed.
A partner she saw,
Not something to be controlled.
All crave this with their horses,
Dogs and loved ones too,
But rarely can it be found,
Too busy trying to break them, 
We fail to join them.


Details | Free verse | |

Nightmare

Black horse riding on the night,
Red eyes gleaming, parody of blood moon,
Warhorse, armored with steel, ready for war,
Sky horse, living in the world above,
Dawn of night, his name is called,
Nightmare, come, 
The black horse rides down our of the sky,
To the black armored warrior below.

Together Nightmare rides to battle with his master,
Intelligence burning in his crimson eyes,
A nightmare going to war.

Screams ring out in the air, over the bloody battlefield,
The war had begun and Nightmare rejoices,
Trampling and kicking enemies to death,
Nightmare goes to war.


Details | Free verse | |

A Slow Sad Song

My horse is old and gray
Seen many a better day
Swayed in the back
Steady and on track

I too old and gray
On my back life I weigh
Now I slump
Still prodding along
Singing a sad, sad song
Wondering did I ever belong

Did I leave a mark
Was my short ride worth much
Should I hide
Slowly, lowly as I ride
Concealing my face
In disgrace

At times I feel I did my best
At times I took on a sorry rest

Why am I still here
I feel alone
Cold and sad
Completely mad

Clip-pity-clop
Will my time ever stop

Clip-pity-clop
I now ride my course
With very little love
With very little force

Were to I wonder
As I ride
Me and horse can no longer glide
So out here alone we hide

Riding along this old trail
Pondering did all fail

I hope not
But I am not to judge

I used all I had
And now I am sad

Clip-pity-clop
Will I now close
Can I now stop

Down the dusty trail
No longer wagging tail
Did I win
Did I fail
I do not know
But the clipping will cease

Leaning back in the saddle
Fate I now straddle
Hat I pull back
For the last time

Pity-clop



Details | Free verse | |

Golden Glowing Biscuits

            Golden Glowing Biscuits

Eohippus at the dawn of history rides off the earth
His son the dawn horse rides out on the day
First through a lush field of heather up ahead
Guided by shifting westward winds
Then over the hills of clover running to the cliff
Down labyrinths of canyons crooked paths
Past the canna, columbine and hollyhock bursts of reds
There, just over long green grasses beyond the pastures
The animal takes a break
Relieves himself, releases golden biscuits to the earth
Which aid the fertile fields to grow and flourish


Details | Free verse | |

Pegasus, The Legend

Sprouting full-formed 
From the crimson life blood 
Of a snake eyed medusa, 
That succulent seducer, 
The white horse shook his 
Glittering diamond wings and 
Wild mane that sung 
Of untamed adventures and 
Lost prophecies

Reigning the skies with 
Giddy joy and bliss, 
He came to land, 
Enticed by a golden bridle 
Wielded by a princely hero
Bellerophon

Singing his praise and 
Carrying him through the 
Winding canyons and 
Glacial seas 
That were the home of 
The fire-breathing chimera, 
The epitome of chaos rising

Carrying his rider to a 
Flawless victory and above 
And beyond to a 
High flying adventure, 
The hero rode his 
Glittering white horse 
To the high mountain, 
A godly matter at hand

The skies opened and Zeus 
Hurled his thunder, 
Tossing the princely hero 
To the still ground, 
Forcing him to 
Roam the earth, 
A melancholy wanderer, 
While his white steed 
Ascended to the heavens 


Details | Free verse | |

The Horse Shall Race The Fire

What fire scorches but leaves a singe
This horse calls upon his courage, within
He gallops, full speed,   
Through this fire and wind, but
Finds  a way to unite this herd, again
What horse shall race the fire, wins


Details | Free verse | |

Horse Sensations

To ride Lippizans
My eldest daughter
She of the animalistic tendencies
Took a large warmblood
Out to the back pasture
For needed exercise

The horse was tightly wound
A big buck jumped up
Snorted and bounced a couple of times
Then waited to see what we’d do
I could feel the bolting desire exploding
I dropped the reins
and patted the bulging neck
at my chin with both hands
The horse was so up I could have stroked his nostrils
I was not leaning forward
It was all I could do 
to turn this sudden desire to bolt
into a dance of pride
The buck bounced a couple more times
And I fed the joy of the sight right into his fright
Laughing with the excitement of it all
as the buck left
I rode that horse in a prancing high legged dance of pride
Feeling every nuance of nerve endings
Shouting and singing aloud with the joy of it
To control that much force
To have my legs holding all that shuddering wonder
I never wanted to come down
This was why I ride horses

Dad didn’t write any poetry today
He only listened
And felt how it is to ride a horse joyfully
Some days are treasured pleasures
Poetry’s where we store them


Details | Free verse | |

Equine Statement

                                                        Standing there,
                                                     are they prisoners 
                                                    to the surroundings?
                                                     Or, are they part of
                                                      the surroundings
                                                         themselves?

                                                     Toned, muscular
                                               they’ve become nature’s 
                                          fastest, as man adopts them
                                         for sport, for pleasure, for hunt.

                                                         Some, being 
                                                purebred, set records,
                                              become newsworthy, or
                                            even the odds on favorites.
                                            While others, still beautiful 
                                            become destined for work
                                                  or become glue for
                                                           childrens
                                                               use.

                                                        In respect,
                                                      the horse of
                                                  today is the very 
                                                same horse of the
                                                past and remains
                                                     the horse of
                                                      tomorrow,
                                                         God’s
                                                           gift
                                                           on
                                                            4
                                                         legs!