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Quatrain Horse Poems | Quatrain Poems About Horse

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

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The Phantom Horse

A phantom horse came galloping 
beneath a silver moon
across a field of recent war 
where corpses’ bones lay strewn.

With thunder in his hoof beats,
again and then again,
he raced along a river which,
like blood, ran through that plain.

Though frightful he appeared to be
on land that reeked demise,
a sole intent gleamed strongly
in his sad and ghostly eyes.

Then finally, as dawn began
to paint the broad stretch red,
the unrelenting stallion stopped
and seemed to bow his head.

He briefly knelt, then stood upright
and bore away, with speed,
the spirit of the knight for whom
he’d been a trusty steed!


For Skat's Premiere Contest number 9 Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

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Mackenzie Trail

When doves on evenings, calm and still, call out a hollow tone, They rouse a medley, old as time, so few have ever known. The whispered lines of its refrains resound of yesterday, In ancient tales and bygone trails that man cannot portray. I’ve rode and worked along a trail throughout my many years. I’ve heard the tales the sages tell of raging Longhorn steers, Of soldiers marching single file or mounted days on end, Of Indians, conquistadors and Rangers tracking men. Mackenzie Trail is not well known for time obscures its fame, But high regard is placed on it by those who know its name. Its story’s scribed in black and white, its remnants etched in stone, Its way was marked by sweat and blood, by grave and bleaching bone. The broad frontier that it traversed had yet to be surveyed And danger seemed to lie in wait at every turn and grade. From Fort Clark Springs to forts on north, it led Mackenzie’s men To risk their lives out on the trail, then brought them home again. A mound lies near Mackenzie Lake, where horse thieves met despair, For Rangers tracked their hurried trail and hung them then and there. And near a barn not far away, in Live Oaks’ blissful shade, The remnants of a camp still lie where soldiers often laid. I’ve rode the trail and damned the rock that cost my horse a shoe. I’ve crossed its draws that filled with rain and made my lips turn blue. Its rugged paths have tested me and all who’ve come this way, Yet, it remains my trail through time, my bond with yesterday. Mackenzie Trail will long survive, a monument to will, That I recall when I ride near on evenings, calm and still; When doves exclaim in harmony, their lonely, hollow tone And rouse the medley, old as time, so few have ever known.

Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009

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Three Blind Men and a Horse


Three blind men, as in the elephant fable,
examined a horse in a roadside stable.
The owner said to the blind men then,
“Guess what it is and ten dollars win.”

The first exclaimed while stroking  its  mane,
“This animal, from a lion came.”
Another felt its dry, course hair,
“I think it surely must be a bear.”

The third, more thorough than the rest,
put the animal through a careful test.
“Its head is large for its body size,
and finely appointed with big round eyes.

“With ears alert and shoulders deep;
its neck is long with a graceful sweep.
Its muscular legs and fetlocks large,
are poised and ready for instant charge.

“He, I believe, was desert bred,
with sturdy feet to hot sand tread.
From hardy stock he will long survive
on scant water and stay alive.

“Arabian horse!” was the blind man’s phrase.
And, at such accuracy, the owner was dazed.
“How could you have possibly known?
Could you tell by feeling alone?”

To which replied the blind man then,
with ten dollars safely in hand,
“Thank you Sir, but I could not lose,
since you told it all on the Morning News.”

Copyright © James Tate | Year Posted 2011

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The Unicorn Dedicated to Pd For her Birthday

~The Unicorn~ There is a woman who has a passion Not for a man and not for a fashion Her passion is for a horse, a horse with a horn. Commonly known as a mystical unicorn. This mythical beast from days of yore Did it walk on this hallowed land before? The Bible mentions this unicorn But the science says it’s a beast with one horn. It’s placed where the horn is on a rhinoceros So what is that trying to tell the lot of us? Those unicorns did not roam about I know that’s hard love, please don’t shout The mythical beast of charm and of love Is just a rhinoceros to you and me, my dove? The Bible talks of it with other beasts Not mythical ones, that now have all ceased. What it means is a beast with just one horn But not the mythical mystical unicorn But for you PD I will start to seek For a horse with a horn that would be labelled a freak. I will scour the lands up hill and down dale I will lift every stone and turn every hay bale If this horse with a horn is what you desire I will spend my time searching-until I expire. For you with a passion for a horse with a horn I’ll search for ever to find your mystical unicorn But if I expire before my quest is done I’ll get an apprentice, and he can find one.
© 10/09/2012 ~GG~

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

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On a dazzling white horse

Our exquisite Queen of passion
Rides on a dazzling white horse
Within her hand she wields a pen
Describing adventures of course

She takes us to many places
So our own psyches we can explore
To the thoughts of former lovers
Or through imaginary doors

Within her realm she is fearless
A true warrior of the mind
Some say the passion whisperer
She can give color to the blind

The fountain of her thoughts endless
With her we travel back in time
To former days of gallantry  
As we engage in every line

Mesmerized by her artistry
As we follow her where she goes
Eileen's sexy has no limits
Ooh la la licious as it flows

Dedicated to Eileen, our queen of passion.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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My Horse

The course was very narrow,
the trail, straight and long -
I moseyed on that perfect path
where I could do no wrong.
I kicked my big, white stallion,
up rocky slopes one day -
and when I made this clearing,
I knew I'd found the way.

And while I sat there on my faith,
atop the highest hill -
and as I peered on valley low,
I judged folks all until -
I found great fault in everyone
no matter, great or small -
so I could sit up highest on
my saddle, straight and tall.

I prayed; "Oh, those pathetic souls
are hardly good for thee -
for never are they good enough,
unless they're just like me.
Just look at their bad habits,
just look at all their stuff,
and why don't they attend my church?
They are not good enough!
They sin in many different ways,
they fall in numbers too.
They just don't understand that they -
are not like me and You."

Now after seeing others
had wandered way off course -
t'was then that I was bucked right off
my high and mighty horse.

©2010 louis gander / www.ganderpoems.org

Copyright © louis gander | Year Posted 2016

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Longing for the ride

Majestic he stands 
Head held high and proud
Until I draw near tack in hand
His mussel to my chest he bows

Our eyes fixed
With deepest affection
Respect from me
From him acceptance 

His nostrils flair 
He inhales my scent
A bond beyond fences
A mutual consent

About horse and rider 
How can I explain
This communion of splendor 
Perpetually sustained

With reverent candor
Can any man compare
Who would be considered grander
Horse or rider if you dare

Nobility without pride
Beauty without vanity
Majesty without disciple
Power without violence 

Do you still wonder why I'm longing for the ride
When he challenges the wind for speed
Brushed by heaven with every stride
Intimacy mounted here on "Spirit's Pride"

My steed and I in harmony
Exhilaration captivates my senses
Pounding hooves, his earthen scent 
Taut muscles ripple in sweat profusely drenched

He heeds the slightest touch of rein
His saddle is my alter of prayer
When he on oceans sands a trot
My soul is healed all disrepair

In bed I lay awake tonight my mind a heavy load
His blaze is blazoned in my memory burned
Of black night mane and chestnut coat
A quatrain tribute to his name he's earned

Still you may not understand
This yearning so many take in stride
Of horse and rider pure joy provider
And oh such longing for the ride
 

Copyright © Sarai Romani | Year Posted 2013

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Grandpa's Farm

Several times we took the kids To vacation on Grandpa’s farm Many a time they’d be walking around With kittens they found in the barn Grandpa arranged for a pony to ride Or to pull them around in a shay Riding a horse was just so much fun They took turns and did it each day I watched my youngest, as she took a ride The horse bucked and she hit the ground Just mad as can be, she got back on Kicked the horse, then road all around When the cousins came to Grandpa’s farm The barn was a great place to play They always seemed to have such fun Just playing around in the hey My kids took three ducks back home Those Muscovy’s really did grow We had to let them loose at a pond So big that they just had to go Just this last year, these kids of mine Who now have kids of their own Returned once more to Grandpa’ farm It’s different when you’re all grown Now they get to see their own kids play Doing the same things they used to do Nothing has changed, for kids it’s the same Your kids love the farm just like you

Copyright © Charles Sides | Year Posted 2011

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Breakfast Of Champions

Old CAP'N CRUNCH was hanging out one day With the bunch at SPECIAL K Ranch When FROOT LOOPS from the city rode by With their pay CHEX in their pants Greeted them each with warm CHEERIOS Asked them if they'd ever SHREDDED WHEAT They were full of PEP and said no not yet His shock was TOTAL and COMPLETE So he thought he'd show these SUGAR PUFFS Just how cow pokes get their KIX He mounted his faithful horse APPLE JACKS And performed a bunch of neat TRIX He turned on the JETS and performed like a vet Wearing LUCKY CHARMS on his belt Landed on his MUFFET when his horse reared up Crushed his NUTS 'N HONEY they swell't ©Jack Ellison 2012

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012

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Battle Horse


As I plod along the boggy fields
Master on my back
The heavy armour on my chest
The mud upon my flanks
The smell of blood in the smokey air
Of man and beast entwined
The thrust of decay beneath my hooves
Tension in the skies
As cold April winds
Lash into my eyes
I keep myself in check
To heed the masters voice to me
And his command upon my neck
His spurs, they push into my flanks
As the enemy approaches
I twist and turn, rise and fall
As metal upon metal clashes
Fast I must hold, stumble not
As the master fights the battle
Heart beating hard, mouth dry as earth
Blood coursing down my chattles
Treading hard upon the ground
Regardless of the dead
Then the day is won,the bugle sounds
"Homeward men its over"
Wearily I trot beneath the sun
To green fields of grass and clover.

Copyright © carol henderson | Year Posted 2011

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ESTEFANIA WAS THE SPANISH HORSE

Estephania was the Spanish horse,
with a chestnut coat and mane   
and a lighter long tail...and she ate
alfalfa for strong teeth and bones.


She was domesticated, losing her liberty
and neighing she showed keen ability:
to spot dangers on a perilous path...
Estefania even stopped for a stranded cat.


In summertime she fed mostly on grass,
but bees stung her many times to protest,
and struggling to get them off her tail...
she hit a shrilling raven in the head.


And feeling sorry for the dying bird wincing, 
Estefania licked his semi-open eyes...giving
him a little comfort as he folded his wings;
and whinnying she wept a river of tears.

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010

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The Gunfight

The sun was rising in the east
behind some hitching posts -
and weathered boards, on buildings old,
had nothing left to boast.

But I wore fancy cowboy duds,
I was a handsome sight.
A crowd of people gathered 'round
to watch this old gun fight.

The street was dead and empty
except for sin and I.
I somehow ended up out here.
I'm really not sure why.

A bullet? Very perilous
if we've no self-control -
and sin is much more dangerous,
because it kills the soul.

Now noon met with humidity.
The sun was dry and hot.
Some beads of sweat rolled down my face -
my stomach, in a knot.

But no, I wasn't nervous -
though duel had begun.
I counted out ten paces -
then turned and drew my gun.

But sin is faster, furious -
much quicker than the eye.
Oh please! Dear Lord and Saviour -
I do not want to die!

And then... in just an instant,
I dropped down to my knees.
I fell as peace passed over me
and felt the gentle breeze.

But something stood in front of me.
Its shadow crossed my face.
I then saw Jesus on that cross.
He took my very place.

Ashamed, I dropped my pistol.
My pride was killed that day -
as I pulled off my fancy boots
and flung my hat away.

Now humbled on the dusty street
with crowded eyes on me -
my every pride had vanished as
I learned humility.

In faithfulness, I stood again,
though I was at a loss...
Oh, how could Jesus love me so
from that old rugged cross?

The sun was setting in the west
behind some hitching posts.
And weathered boards, on buildings old,
had nothing left to boast.

©2012 louis gander / www.ganderpoems.org

Copyright © louis gander | Year Posted 2016

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Tragic horse racing mug

I strode in, nose in the air, lofty and proud, 
Through the grand doors of the horses arena.
Standing beside the rusted rail, assessing the parade
For the eyes of a hardened ballerina.

The show pony on the track, the performer of fast,
The chase from the back, or lead from the front.
Then I saw deep, deep into the stallion, he said he would win,
So on him I placed my first punt.

Last! Shit! Well that horse was a liar, so young and so green, 
His eyes told a dream that he had.
The next parade was now on, the filly’s eyes shone to me,
She was an athletic sprinting Olympiad.

With hands full of urgent, I hastily fired the money from my pocket, 
All on horse named Jitterbug. 
She came in only seven lengths from the front, yep I know, 
I’m the hopeless tragic horse racing mug.

Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2016

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I'm Just a Trojan Horse

I'm starting to even wonder why I'm actually there
Am I there for a certain purpose I'm caught so unaware
I'm feeling like the Trojan Horse, a passage to somewhere else
Once there I'm cast aside, ageing and left on the shelf

I'm starting to even wonder now that I'm actually here
When do you say your goodbyes, and fill my eyes with tears
What will you do when you look back, laughing in my face
Me just a Trojan Horse, as I welcomed you with grace











http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-15.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011

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Would you rather have to eat horse or cow fesces

            MIRROR MIRROR ON THE FALL

Wonder do I how bright ignites the light
And an eagerness to stay a falling leaf kind of free
Free to find out what may be in sight
As she holds hands with beauty and empathy

Wonder do I how bright her eyes
And what wouldst I see to look inside
The lady dons no cloak nor disguise
For she has but happiness and the clock to bide

All I know is silence sometimes has an unheard voice
A lady who languishes, perhaps, only in my mind unspoken 
However that may be a particularly intelligent choice
Because that way there can’t be any vows ever broken

Wonder do I to see what her mirror reveals
And where would her spirit say we are going
I may never really know what and how she feels
But sometimes it’s better my not knowing
            © 2011.….Phreepoetree~free cee!~

Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2011

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Dark Horse

She rides hollow into her night
marked by terror, marked by fright
void expression, empty smile
her crown, a mask, to beguile

She moves fettered into her day
contemptuous chip, her shoulder play
a hint of mulberry on the dew
weathered brow, She only knew

She dies slowly into her life
distorted, malignant strife
perception colors her rotting corpse
a crystal grey shattered horse

Copyright © Susan Mangiante | Year Posted 2005