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Morning in the stable

The unexpected heavy thud
of netted hay on solid wood.
My horses snort and sigh and chew,
as glistening cobwebs sway with dew. There is comfort in their rhythmic chomp, on seeing me they grunt and stomp. Stamping an insistent need for feed,
all eyes upon me fixed by greed.
I mix the chaff, the beet, the grain,
as stable gates take up the strain
of thick set chest and plunging neck while I do bend to their call and beck. Our daily ritual now in full swing,
the rubber skips I'll lift and bring
'till steady chomp and grind return,
in the warm sweet smelling peace I yearn.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 2/27/2018 2:13:00 PM
Really, really enjoyed this narrative. Shades of Robert Frost there...I felt that I was with you/your pen, right there in the stable...By the way, one more line and this outstanding poem becomes an outstanding sonnet! :) gershon
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Date: 2/14/2018 5:25:00 PM
I love this Horse Farmer! I can so relate! Wonderful job! Miss my horses... Getting ready to post my poem called The Thoroughbred. Please check it out.
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