Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.191.156.36
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Whistle train, off in the way

                                A warming sound to me today.

                           Where will your paths be taking you?

                          I'm restless now, and would come too,

                            But for the warmth here in my stall,
                              
                              I've nothing but to hear your call.

                             These winter howls that beat about

                          As dreadful fowls that scream and shout,

                                   Subsided for today and so,

                            I'm soothed to hear your whistle blow.

                             If it were spring, I'd tread the grass,

                                  nodding politely to the ass,

                                And this is proper too of course,

                             A proper thing when you're a horse.

                            But here I stand, and wait for spring,

                              It's been so nice to hear you sing.

                        When snow is gone, and sunshine's bright,

                           Or stars hang low some summer night;

                          I'll hear your thunderous mighty hooves, 

                                Faster than the hungry wolves.

                                And as I hear your whistle call,

                                No longer stranded in my stall,

                               I'll race you, till the East is West!

                            I'll prove myself in this great quest!

                              As free as you, across the plains,

                            I'll laugh at thunder and the rains.

                               And we will fly across the gold,

                             How great to be so free and bold!

                              But now I hear you far away...

                           And here I stand, in thick warm hay.

                                       For now, I'll wait,

                                   My dreams won't wain.

                                   This Spring, I'll gallop

                                         With the train.



                     Written during a long snowy ice-cold winter.
                                        December 1992
                                  
                                    Winter is not forever.
                                               <3
                                     By BJ Legros Kelley                     
 
                                    
                           

                                 'A Gallop with the Train' 
                             Copyright Kaylianna M. Kelley
                   Created by the artist from 'Artistic Glow Studio'
                  exclusively for this poem and used by permission. 
                                 Painting rights reserved 
                                  by Kaylianna M. Kelley.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required