Best Croup Poems


The Anatomy of a Horse

The Anatomy of a Horse (written for children)

Horse's feet have a hoof, the hard part which he can pound, 
back of this is his frog, bottom part that stays off the ground.
Between his hoof and his leg is a coronet, not like a crown
it blends into the pastern the start of his leg, now don’t frown.

Next is his fetlock, sort of an ankle, not a real lock.
Horse's rear ankle turns backwards and that it is called his hock.
His fetlock has a callous called an ergot,  can you see?
Then comes his harmless cannon, just below his hock or knee. 

On the front leg, it's a knee between forearm and cannon
His hind leg has a hock which joins gaskin to his cannon.
His elbow in the front and his stifle in the back, no fibs,
connect his upper legs to his barrel which is our horse's ribs.

Topside of the barrel, where a rider sits, twixt tail and head, 
highest part of horse's rump is called a croup instead. 
The dock is the soft part from which grows his tail, what the heck;
above his high shoulders are withers, right beneath his neck. 

Behind his ears is a part called his poll, close to his brain?
From his poll, hair makes a forelock, back down his neck, a mane.
We’ve finally reached his head and the last part, called his muzzle,  
his jaw, his nose and mouth.  A horse can be quite a puzzle. 


written October 28, 2016 for Shadow's contest, Horses

Premium Member Horses

A horse that runs wild and free
 Enjoys freedom with each stride
    No saddle on his withers be
 No grazing muzzle as a guide
    No headpiece on his poll abides

    His fetlock and his coronet feel the tickle of the grass
  As his forelock ruffles in the breeze
   No horseshoe on his hoof amass
 With the wind he trots with ease
    His gaskin flexes to run at his decree

     His frog feels the soft earth as he stands
 his coat feels the soothing rain
  Unbridled by the bit's demand
 His neighs echo through the plains
   Upon these green fields, he reigns

     His stifle and his hock aches once in awhile
 But a good gallop 'neath the dome
    of sky, brings him back in form and style
 No crupper on his croup as he roams
     For this horse calls freedom home.
                     ~~~
    10/4/16
 *The crupper is the strap that runs from the horse's dock, over the croup, to the saddle.
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.

Horses

Her tiny strands of forelock were as soft as silk, 
resting gently between her poll and soft ears-
Her muzzle slightly wet as it began to wilt
For she was saddened and brought to tears.

She had been racing and fell hurting her back hock,
pulled the stifle muscle falling on her croup-
She already had a previous injury in her left fetlock,
now she was separated from her racing group.

You should see her withers on the bottom of her mane,
so strong and robust while she ran in the field-
She had such class, always winning almost every game,
but she also had a problem when it was time to yield.

See, she was born with Quiltor, an infection in the lower leg,
if drastically affected her frog just underside her left hoof-
Her leg would get tired and to her gaskin it had spread,
she was still determined to race, but at times very aloof.

Her coronet was meant for balance and steadiness,
and in her final race you could tell she was prepared-
she was excited and filled with eager readiness,
although she had some ailments, she was never scared.


Words Used: 1. muzzle  2. forelock   3. fetlock  4. hock  
5. withers  6. stifle  7. poll  8. croup  9. gaskin  10. frog   
11. hoof   12. coronet.

Horse Contest
Shadow Hamilton
October 28, 2016

Premium Member Horses

My life seems to last forever now that I’ve start aging
The sudden onset aches and pains start engaging

My home is in a theme park petting zoo where other animals live and rest
Each day zoo attendants feed, water, and groom us to look our best for our guests

These little creatures called Children come into the petting zoo
With the sounds of ooohs, aaahs of surprise as they walk through

Sheep, goats, rabbits, to feed and interact physically with safety
Some of these little creatures try to chase me, some of us get shaky

A tall creature with a long mane and forelock yells, “Wait a minute baby!”
Is this tall creature going to save me?

 A young pony, a true friend is 7 hands at the wither not as tall as me
Wearing a blanket and saddle for a rider to sit, and bridle to guide in safety

Zoo attendants teach the proper ways to handle animals
while brushing my forelock, poll, croup, and withers

They lift my gaskin the area behind my leg between the stifle and hock pointing to my fetlock explaining that is actually more like the ball of the foot on a human

Naming my coronet where it meets my hoof down to my frog; a highly elastic wedge-shaped mass on the underside of the hoof and supports both locomotion and circulation

When all is done  the attendant extending a hand placing a treat close to my muzzle treating us with love and kindness, as we bubble full of  admiration  


10/20/2016

Horses - Poetry Contest 
 Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton  
use the following words

Muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll, croup, gaskin, frog, hoof and coronet.
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Horses

At the foot of the mountain lies a wide verdant plain
With rich flowing breasts tend its enchanting brethren

A cuddly care that nature does, in collaboration with men
Catered to those gallant souls, nurturing the best it can

Every morning, when sunshine unfolds its resounding grace
Charming horses in auspicious race, dock their tails, all in graze

Glorious creatures they are when viewed near and afar
Precious stone-like muzzles adorned, each shines like ritzy car

Glossy fur is prominent, from withers, poll to forelock crane
The sophisticated look they have while galloping in any range

When the sun grows brighter in the middle of the day
Cowboys with their hats and chaps shout, hurray!

They run to check their rides before they saddle with glee
Patting stifle, gaskin, hock down to fetlock ‘though they’re jerky

Thorough inspection of hoof, coronet and frog they do and peek
And see if shoes are fixed, they’re good luck charms, shown in kicks

Stallions or mares, palomino, topaz… horses in any color and kind
Riding like a roller-coaster on their withers to their croup is so fine! 

How I wish I can go with those cowboys in their pony-trekking
I want to be their horsewoman as they’ll be all my prince charming.

Oct. 17, 2016        1.40pm

Copyright2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved



Ninth Place
Contest: Horses
Judged: 10/30/2016
Sponsor: Poet Shadow Hamilton
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Cold of the Century

Mommy had a cold, now Dragon has it too. Oh woe is me! Woe to you, too!
Fire’s dribbling, fluidly from his eyes, as lava flows, in a nasty watery goo.  
Coughs shoot in fireballs, as he coughs, with a non-tiring, and bitter croup.
Even his little bum, found itself, with the same un-erring problem, it’s true.

OH… ME… OH… MY… WHATEVER ARE WE TO DO!!!!

The house has finally imploded, so we have him floating on our big lake.
Hoping to bring his fever down, the water’s boiling, heavily in it’s wake.
So we’re now hosing water, from the shore, to cover him, in a soothing flow.
But now, the lava’s building an island of floating fire, in a bright red glow!!

OH… ME… OH… MY… WHATEVER ARE WE TO DO!!!!

But Mommy won’t be stopped from comforting her widdle, bitty Dragon Man.
So I rowed out sitting in an ice filled boat, as we had a brilliant, big, game plan!
I waas putting ice on his forehead, as others are trying to row out more, to me.
But the ice was instantly catching fire as it hit his forehead. Oh NO!! Woe is me!

OH… ME… OH… MY… WHATEVER ARE WE TO DO!!!!

Surprisingly! Singing to him, has put him soundly, and amazingly fast, to sleep.
So now I called the Vet, to save my widdle Dragon Man, as I soundly weeped!
But much to my surprise, Grandpa Troll and the Vet steadfastly, did totally agree.
Dragon’s in no trouble, for you see, fire is a kinda, Very Normal, Dragon Thing!

 OH… ME… OH… MY… WHATEVER ARE WE TO DO!!!!

WHAT! You’re kidding! I said in Alarm! He’ll be fine? So just let him sleep?
But NOW he’s blowing fiery bubbles that are floating off high, into the air!
And every time he hiccups, they’re getting bigger! Do what? What did you say?
Get a gun!! OH, to shoot them from the air? And he should be fine by morning? 

Honestly, a Momma’s job is never done, as the fever did finally pass at dawn.
As we exhaustedly, all took Dragon home. Well, to what was left, of it, that is.
But Momma had her widdle baby Dragon back, and that was ALL we did want!! 
My prayers were finally answered! So Dear God! THANK YOU!! and AMEN!

Written by Carol Eastman 4-8-2016

Premium Member Horses

They were on the summit of the hill as if poised in a portrait.
The breeze ruffling the stud's forelock and mane as he arched his head
responding to the reins he moved on as his rider leant forward and 
rubbed his poll in affection. Tensed up his withers quivering he sprang into
action careening down the slope pulling up lame. His rider dismounted
and ran his hand down his legs finding some heat in the fetlock. Lifting
his leg he found the cause a stone lodged in his frog, using his hoof
pick he dislodged it thanking his lucky stars that it was not a pulled stifle.
Checking his hind legs for heat in the hocks and gaskin he found all to be well.
He patted his croup in affection and re-examined the front leg still a little heat but his coronet seemed fine. A week's rest should put him right allowing the bruised frog time to heal. It would be tight to keep him fit for their big show in three weeks time but a strained stifle would have put him out of action for at least six weeks. On foot he lead Silver back to the stables and there applied a poultice to his hoof which he would change daily until the frog  recovered, leaving Silver munching happily on hay. He walked into the tack room and replaced his tack and stood admiring the rows of rosettes that lined the walls.. The upcoming show would give him the final proof of how superb he was and then people would flock to bring their mares to him and his line would be perpetuated long into the future.

Premium Member Horses

I named her Chestnut, color of her coat,
and love to hold her muzzle near my cheek,
then run my hand from poll through forelock tuft
down withers over croup...such grand physique.

But now concerned about her rear leg limp;
a problem with her stifle, gaskin, hock?
Or lower...coronet band on her hoof;
perhaps a stone in frog or sprained fetlock.

Inspection of back hoof showed small heel crack
most likely due to horseshoe mal-aligned.
With pat on back, I walk her to the barn
and waste no time...a farrier must find.

Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Horses
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 10/30/2016

Required words to use: 
muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll, 
croup, gaskin, frog, hoof, coronet.

Bad Bad Poem

This is the worst poem I'll write
Only because I want to fight
For a lifetime membership on 
Poetry soup, is more valuable
Than getting rid of the croup
I must rhyme every line
So I get picked every time
I hope this poem stinks p.u.
Or else I'll be the one that pays my dues.
Is it nasty and dirty and bad as can be
If not P.D will never pick me.
So I better not rhyme my lines anymore 
For I don't want to be shown the window.

Horses For Courses - and What On Earth Inspired Me

I sit at my table - I sip onion soup
It's good for my cough - bad case of the croup
I could do with a meal and something to sup
But the bar is now closed - the buffet locked up

The dry glass of flowers long started to wither
I yell for the waiter to make him run hither
The air con is broken I tell the garçon
It needs a regas - kindly put the fan on

Feeling light headed - the air closely stifles
I open my backpack and check on my rifle
I take out my weapon - look into the muzzle
The waiter just hoofs it - he answers this puzzle

He returns with a bottle and drinking glassware
A plate of moule-frites with some haricot vert
A slice of French brie in a fresh French baguette
And a royal dessert - an ice cream coronet

I pick up my glass of cool German hock
With fake deference I fake tug my forelock
He takes from his apron some pen and some paper
He's taking a poll - so how was your waiter?

I've gone four lines over - the limit I'm hitting
But hang on a second - this might not be fitting
And where are the horses in this French venue?
With snails and frog leggies - they're on the menu



Uses (sort of) the following words (in bold): muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll, croup, gaskin, frog, hoof and coronet.



What on Earth inspired me

In life when I have to compete
I'm sometimes a little offbeat
This time I split words
Used meanings absurd
And wrote about menued horse meat



Reposting date: November 6th 2016

This contest: Take the dagger from my heart please - 3

Original contest: Horses

Original contest finalised:   October 30th 2016

Premium Member The Yellow Umbrella

An 

Umbrella 

Lemon-yellow brilliant 

Over my head and shoulders stooped 

Protects me from getting the chesty croup 

But praise God for long warm sunny days 

Warm inviting outside for a relaxing exhilarating stay 

Also 

Thank  

God  

For  

Your 

Cover    
                  y
                a
            d   
T o -

Flu Symptoms

The coughing, the headaches, the sneezing
This flu bug is not at all pleasing
I’m down with the croup
So, I’ll drink chicken soup
and pray the soup high ends my wheezing

Premium Member The Visitation

The Visitation


     Said Gorbelung to Gorbeling,
     Flying in their spaceship thing,
     "Over there is planet Earth,
     I wonder what it's really worth."

     So travelling at the speed of light,
     Which gave their spacedog quite a fright,
     And leaving Saturn in the rear,
     They came upon the pale blue sphere.

     Said Gorbeling to Gorbelung,
     When transposed to Earthly tongue,
     “Down there is a little man,
     Let's communicate if we can.”

     Then sliding back a tiny panel
     And opening a communication channel,
    They beamed a light and hissing sound,
     From the spaceship to the ground.

     To Arthur on his hands and knees
     In his garden planting peas.
     Space dog Io gave a yelp,
    Thinking perhaps this might help.

     Seeing the light from heaven to ground
     And startled by the sudden sound
     Arthur ran to tell his wife,
     “An Alien spoke to me upon my life.”

     “What did it say?” his wife remarked,
     “It shone a light and then it barked.”
     Arthur's wife, who was making soup
     Ran to find young Doctor Croup

     Who, declaring Arthur quite insane,
     Gave him pills that dulled his Brain.
     But Gorbelung and Gorbeling,
     Flying in their spaceship thing.

     Left the Earth for other spheres,
     On Journeys taking many years
     And on a chart pinned to their door
     Wrote: 'EARTH COMMUNICATION POOR'.

      Barry Stebbings
       17/08/16

Horses

HORSES

Knight of a famous land wanted a best horse for warfare
To buy, along with loyal consul, he landed in horse-fair
Many were on display, but one superior struck his sight
Bay coat, brown muzzle, coronet, fetlock in legs white
Measured from the withers , stood robust long and wide
Gaskin, Stifle, hock in hind legs strong for an enduring ride
Masculine back and powerhouse profound in the croup
This equine for sure would stand elegant in the troop
Perfect shock absorbing frog placed beneath the hoof
Poll on head positioned right to flex the bit sans any goof
Bouncy forelock ,mane and tail swayed with its gallop and gait
Finding place in Knight’s finest stable, its prestige did elevate
Love was in the air when its eyes located a lovely white mare
Mare was quick to catch the love cues from this special horse there!!

20th October 2016
For contest-Horses by Shadow Hamilton
© Anu Nayak  Create an image from this poem.

Horses For Courses

I sit at my table - I sip onion soup
It's good for my cough - bad case of the croup
I could do with a meal and something to sup
But the bar is now closed - the buffet locked up

The dry glass of flowers long started to wither
I yell for the waiter to make him run hither
The air con is broken I tell the garçon
It needs a regas - kindly put the fan on

Feeling light headed - the air closely stifles
I open my backpack and check on my rifle
I take out my weapon - look into the muzzle
The waiter just hoofs it - he answers this puzzle

He returns with a bottle and drinking glassware
A plate of moule-frites with some haricot vert
A slice of French brie in a fresh French baguette
And a royal dessert - an ice cream coronet

I pick up my glass of cool German hock
With fake deference I fake tug my forelock
He takes from his apron some pen and some paper
He's taking a poll - so how was your waiter?

I've gone four lines over - the limit I'm hitting
But hang on a second - this might not be fitting
And where are the horses in this French venue?
With snails and frog leggies - they're on the menu



18th October 2016 - entry for "horses" contest

Uses (sort of) the following words (in bold): muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll, croup, gaskin, frog, hoof and coronet.

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