Best Colts Poems
“Why do the Rams behave violently?”
The little boy queried of his father.
“They need all their might to fight the Jaguars,
But Jags are fast, don’t know why they bother.”
“And why do Broncos try to beat up on Colts?
Wouldn’t this be much like you hitting me?”
The unhappy father just shook his head
“It’s competition, son, you just don’t see.”
“Daddy, this is not what I hoped to find
At a zoo like other children describe.”
“The football zoo is better than others
Some animals here throw games for a bribe.”
“But you told Mom we would see a real zoo,”
The youngster groaned, sadly eying the field.”
“Please just tell Mom you saw animals play
If she learns where we went, my fate is sealed.”
* For Barbara Gorelick's "Zoo" competition
Categories:
colts, animals, funnymom, mom,
Form:
Rhyme
Oh, pretty little butterfly, flitting all around.
You can flash dance colorfully even with no sound.
Hummingbird, I see you too. You flap your wings so fast.
You super duper flapper, you are having such a blast!
Bumble bee, big bumble bee, your buzzing song is rare.
Few insects sing the way you do while dancing in the air.
Oh, katydids and crickets, I hear your soothing call.
It is the song of summer time when night begins to fall.
Oh, nights of summer I don’t want for you to pass me by
without the flicker lights I see from the firefly.
Oh, firefly so talented, no creature is like you.
Your flash dance is amazing as darkness you pass through.
Refrain:
Watch and listen, everyone,
whether beneath the moon or sun.
Nature has more skills than you may know.
Sit back a while and just enjoy the show!
Oh, deer that prance and lambs and colts gamboling in play.
I also love to hear the tunes, like the donkey’s bray,
the lowing of the cattle and the baaing of the sheep,
and even baby chicks when they go peep peep peep.
Mammals of the wild, how you howl and how you roar -
You’re a jungle orchestra that tourists can’t ignore.
Oh, birds that strut, your mating moves are so interesting
along with all the pretty songs so many of you sing.
Water’s music rushes as over rocks it goes.
Ocean laps a lullaby; with rhythm each tide flows.
Breezes make leaves dance; I sometimes hear wind croon.
Oh, birds, swirl on, and dolphins, glide and whistle your fun tune!
Refrain:
Watch and listen, everyone,
whether beneath the moon or sun.
Nature has more skills than you may know.
Sit back a while and just enjoy the show!
Categories:
colts, nature,
Form:
Lyric
Acres of lush emerald meadows
burst forth from pregnant earth,
creating the perfect background for a
dazzling array of wildflowers.
Expectant mothers of beast and fowl
fill the countryside with new
generations, eager to find their way.
Honeybees and hummingbirds
in frenzied competition for sweet nectar.
Jasmine and gardenia blossoms
kindle their senses with a
lustful, pungent fragrance.
Mares, folding new colts,
nudgeing them gently up
on quivering, spindly legs.
Ponds give travel to ducklings following in the
quake of proud mamas.
Rainbow trout rush upstream to
spawn, before laying eggs in lazy pools.
Throughout floral scented air,
unfettered birds soar freely,
voicing a revival of hope and joy.
Whimsical butterflies take a rest on
xylem, between aireal ballets.
Young babes everywhere, renewing our world with a
zest for life's adventures, awaiting.
02/16/15
Contest: Abecedarian
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
colts, hope, nature, spring,
Form:
Abecedarian
MUSTANGS
The ground shudders, and shakes,
Under pounding hooves.
Echoing against canyon walls.
Fast and furious wild hearts beat,
Keeping equal pace, with the prairies,
Wide divide.
From within hell's fiery furnace,
Tempered muscle drives motions sinew.
Behold evolution's die hard breed,
Built for no other purpose except,
Excessive Speed.
Racing along at razors edge,
Accelerating testing endurance's,
Brute strength.
Mustangs roam god's vast expanse,
Deserts devils burning blazing trails.
Encounters ghostly figures, dwelling amongst,
Forbidden territories reservations.
Dust clouds shadow creatures alluding,
Humanities intensive detection.
Harnessing destiny's forgotten beasts,
Freedom's native horses challenging,
Limitless domain.
Blackened pitch melting seamlessly,
Mixing with hewed grays.
Heaven's canvas erupts.
Storms rage splits lightening’s,
Aftershock,
Herding horse flesh towards,
Maximum Resolution.
Divine specters haunting thunders,
boarder lands, slick footed range warriors.
Traveling hidden roads ancient paths.
Natures raw power hardens brutalities
Magnificence.
Rival Arabians fight to prove dominates.
One lone stallion stands, dark bristling mane,
Brushed by evenings cooling breeze.
The leader takes cliffs highest plateau.
As silences experienced guardian,
He watches cautiously.
Resting at sunsets twilight hour,
Quenching thirsts, unyielding desires.
Next to waters crystal streams they ease.
Gently relieving tension's strains
Beside one another.
Comforts unity beneath reflective,
Moonlight's softness.
Mares and colts whinny in graduates,
Thanks.
Soon it shall come upon them,
Once more.
Dawn's rays cross horizons palette,
Under universal skies.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
colts, adventure, america, animal, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
Saddle up and ride the ranch
and get to Texas, fast as you can
Where open land past Dallas grand
will let you conquer it freely
Raise your stallions, cast your lot
and face the wind with all you’ve got
Fence the hard-packed earth ~ Don’t stop
‘till it soaks through the hooves as rain
Heat the chestnut mare with sun
and brush the colts hair, one by one
They prance on stilt legs, my they’ve grown
They’ll face the moon in no time
So step off the subway, brace your mind
for dreaming air is what you’ll find
Amidst the freedom of the run
your horses cantor, one by one.
Categories:
colts, animals, cowboy-western, love, places,
Form:
The sounds of wolves howling... echoed loudly,
deep in the solitary woods of no mans land,
While the blazing campfire shared its hearth proudly,
heating the pot of coffee Kid Colt had close at hand,
Each day rehashed such thoughts of how it could be,
for one labeled an outlaw man,
Would it be jail....or staying free,
or getting dealt the dead mans hand?
Staying on the run is sure trouble,
when yer wanted dead or alive fer a crime,
If yer shot dead, all they need is a shovel,
alive, it's a hanging or prison time,
Card games can bring out the worse in a man,
if yer drinking gets ya mouthy and drunk,
and blaming a player of a cheating hand,
could be yer jawin' on too big a chunk!
Saw many a man shot between the eyes,
and some plumb through the chest!
Too slow a gun, ain't no surprise,
The fastest can be the deadliest!
Never plan to kill over a triple jack hand,
and don't fancy getting called a cheat in any card play!
Not enough guts could get ya shot in the back, and,
could have, can't back down, turn around, can't walk away.
"Epic Epigram"
His name came rightly so,
He carried two colts wherever he'd go,
"The Outlaw" came, from his death dealing draw!
during card games or a fist fighting brawl!
Boom! down one went! Boom! Boom! 3 bullets spent!
Boom! Boom! Boom! hell bound they're sent,
by Kid Colt, The Outlaw Gent.
Categories:
colts, adventure,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Meet me back on those effervescent days;
Let’s swing on shafts of their lingering light,
Like our childhood hero in vine-borne flight,
Till we’re again in that sun-swaddled place,
Where once we were colts free to roam and race,
On meadows with dews of innocence bright,
And friendship’s rainbow arching every sight,
Before we were called to the adults’ maze.
Let us leap across the years, my dear friend;
Though our bodies may balk, our minds are lithe.
On the playground of our youth we shall land,
Where birds still kiss the sky, stingless bees hive,
And our mischief roiled through a drowsy glen
Whose slumber still our laughing echoes rive.
Categories:
colts, friendship, happy, nostalgia, paradise,
Form:
Italian Sonnet
Through the days of blistering toil.
A murmur of spirit after a blissful
trial.These were the emotions on this
endless day.Minutes later in single
file, were prints from hoofs in the
muddy soil.While easing toward
drudgery and withdrawal.The amazing
thoroughbreds entered their stall.
Jockeys clambered onto their colts.
As they were trained superbly, for
the oncoming derby.While over the
loudspeaker the narrator spoke.
Calling out numbers for only who was
there.Consider a victory and the
triple crown.Ready to gain-gain an
inch of ground.Thoroughbred racing
was the name of the game.Where
hesitating was nothing, and no
one to blame.Where multitudes of
spectators impatiently waited, for the
master racers to open the gate.A
photograph finish ended the race.
Beaten by a length-a length out of
pace.Was the thoroughbred racer
in second place..
The Derby Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1982,1987..ALL rights reserved..
Categories:
colts, horse, race,
Form:
Acrostic
This is the third in a trilogy of steeler poems and while it is good on its own.I really had fun with this one. All three need read for the full story to be told.
Oh they have won the Superbowl
It's what I said would be
The Seahawks wings were clipped
Now we can laugh, hee hee
I am so excited
I want to give a cry
The Steelers won the Superbowl
They did it on the fly
Now a wildcard was their fate
No chance to win at all
At least that's what the experts said
This trip came with a fall.
First off would be the Bengals
These cats would show their claws
They almost won the game
But we showed up their flaws
There quarterback would stumble
He'd have to leave the game
Without him they were lost
Without him they were lame
Next would be the colts
Which was the favorite team
They thundered with their hooves
Each game they played was lean
This did not faze these men
Who'd tame and brake these colts
No one would stop these guys
Will Ben through thunderbolts
Two games they played that day
As the refs played dirty pool
But they would not be stopped
Oh they would win this duel
It almost did not happen
As the bus would lose the ball
But Ben would make an awesome save
With that they'd win it all
Now Denver came up next
But they'd fall like all before
These broncos would be busted
Then wipped til they were sore
Now that's how they arrived
To play in the big game
They brought home number five
Now we're not quite the same
The Bus now has retired
To the hall of fame he's bound
Now Ward won MVP
He play this game quite sound
Big Ben was not his best
Still though he won the game
The youngest to do so
This year none will complain
With that I'll end this poem
It's been a great great ride
I hope to see it come again
So we can tan some hide.
Categories:
colts, football, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
Mother rams with baby lambs
for greener grass are hunting.
Mama cows spy mama sows
with piglets softly grunting.
Creature ma’ams are joined by dams
whose baby colts start snorting!
Calves and colts and pigs like dolts
in meadows are cavorting.
March 10, 2021
for Eve Roper's Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
(I learned a new word doing this, which kids might enjoy learning:
dams are female horses!)
From Wikipedia:
The word (dam) can also be used for other female equine animals, particularly mules and zebras . . . A horse's female parent is known as its dam. An uncastrated adult male horse is called a stallion and a castrated male is a gelding.
Categories:
colts, children,
Form:
Rhyme
Finished before start
Colts fans leap from Bandwagon
Peyton Manning's hurt
Categories:
colts, dedication, father, funny, health,
Form:
Haiku
The young generation, who believe in dissolution,
promulgating the manifesto
“tradition is the grave of the banality,
only solecism is the quickening of new life…”
yell upholding a flag similar to a bad check
which is unable to secure the needed guarantee for the debt.
They are sycophantic speculators hopping on the bandwagon
of the time, they are nothing but a product of a certain moment
of the swinging pendulum, their unfounded thought changes in consonance with the direction and the amplitude of the pendulum.
Although they think highly of themselves,
they assert themselves as the forerunner of the times,
actually, they are unbridled reckless colts jumping, hopping,
and running blindly in the wilderness.
They consider heteronomy as a shackle,
they, therefore, rush to a smithy and heat the shackles to cut it off,
they insist upon autonomy as the beat of the heart,
they, therefore, lay on the cold operating table to cut it open
to see the inside of the heart bearing an excruciating pain
but they found it full of red and blue blood
clotted in two atrium and two ventricles, the blood
contaminated with filthy and turbid human minds
which carried on from generations of generations
of past unchanged.
They try to ascend their thoughts, nonetheless,
above the traditional ones, it’s nothing more than
a word game, a disgusting prank.
Are they mad? Though they cannot even jump
nor have wings, they try to fly,
ah, poor generation, ill, crooked, lost,
who were not even touched by a drop of Medusa’s
poisonous blood, flap wings imitating Pegasus about to fly.
Categories:
colts, freedom, lost, rude, self,
Form:
Free verse
Up on the hill I found my joy
on grass of green and gold
I would roll down when a young boy
for I was fast and bold.
Oh how we'd play from dawn to dusk
in torn pants and bare feet
The day a thrill when winds were brusque
yes we were colts so fleet.
We ate the small fruits in the grass
sweet ones red and blue
Oh yes the joys found as time passed
were there for most of you.
Up on those hills who was to know
that time would fly so fast.
That life would bind our bare foot soul
and days so swift would pass.
Categories:
colts, adventure, childhood, freedom, time,
Form:
Ballad
The chestnuts are in full flower and the sycamores are humming with bees,
Meadow grass is knee deep full of flowers, the dog rose climbs up a fence,
The cowslips sway gently like the sea in the corner of a lime green meadow,
Cowslips retire at the end of May their day is now over we say a sad goodbye.
Blackberry bushes burst into glowing white flowers protected by sharp thorns,
Grass grows higher around the hedges of the glade than a working corn field,
Sitting on a bank by a river gushing, bubbling and boiling from earlier rains,
And in the grey shrubbery a squirrel plays in the grass and two swallows sing.
Nests are found high in the trees and deep bushes guarded by jealous mums,
Lapsing waters and blossoms are perfect partners and sweet grasses rustle,
The blossoms of the many apple trees change and blow away by a May breeze,
Blossom floats on rushing water sailing away swirling towards the rough sea.
The old quince is in full bloom with its pale flowers and bright yellow leaves,
The weather is warm not too hot just right for a long stroll with a midday sun,
Walk the river banks with its mustard tribes next to the mature giant colts-foot,
Wander over to a copse of trees hiding blue-bells that are singing and ringing.
Categories:
colts, nature,
Form:
Ballad
I read the title as
U - nite- as
three syllables - hard I
And I marveled that a female poet would
write of U Johnny
and looked hurriedly down the page
hoping to read
Of your years leading the Colts
(who were in Baltimore then)
on gimpy knees and guts
when a player
who had it
had balls
not a multi-million $dollar$ contract,
a side deal with a shoe company and....
and of the anger as you
were pushed from the color commentary
by younger has-beens
and sank into muddle-aged oblivion
However, I misread the title
uni - tas
two syllables - soft I
An homage to Aiende and Chile
a democratically elected socialist government
ousted by a CIA-backed military coup
to maintain control over strategic copper
but those days are over
and today the country
produces wonderful, cheap wine
and farmed fish
So I wrote this poem
for U
Written sometime in 1977-1978 on reading Dorthy Livesay's poem from Ice Age - which can be found here
http://envoifound.com/envoi-poetry-festival/poets-dead-or-alive/dorothy-livesay-october-12-1909-december-29-1996/
Categories:
colts, confusion,
Form:
Free verse