Best Foals Poems
Apple blossoms flutter in the breeze. Awakening,
Barefoot to the brook we go, brightly scampering,
Counting caterpillars discovered on our way -
Daffodil and daisy picking this delightful day.
Enjoying the earth’s rebirth, revitalized are we!
Free, like foals we frolic through the fields with energy.
Green surrounds us; onto grass gratefully we fall.
Happy to have found this heaven, on a hill we sprawl.
Invigorated by our rest, in a little while,
Joyously we jump right up; we only have a mile. . .
Knowing we are getting close, faster now we run,
Leaping over lilies lying lush beneath the sun.
Myriads of other meadow flowers now appear.
Nature’s hidden splendor is getting very near.
Over by an old oak tree, it’s coming into view!
Picture perfect, it presents a pure and pleasant hue.
Quickly we approach it, without a single qualm.
Refreshingly it beckons us; our romp disturbs its calm.
Suddenly we’re splashing , and later we will seek
Tadpoles that are teeming in this, our secret creek.
Until the sun has disappeared in the April sky,
Vibrant crimson will have spilled through clouds. We say goodbye
With great reluctance to our brook, which has been for us
Xanadu! But now the warmth of home awaits us. Thus. . .
Youthful frolicking is finished. We have left the stream.
Zesty I could be again but only in a dream!
Submitted Dec. 4, 2021 on Word: Zesty
For the '''Z'' Contest, New or Old -' Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
foals, dream, spring,
Form:
Abecedarian
The screen door droops lazily, slightly ajar
Crickets croon lullabies, heard from afar
Kid’s sticky faces, betray ice-cream bars
All on a summers eve
Legs peel off chairs, from the sticky, wet heat
Rocking chairs sway, creaking out restless beats
Mosquitoes, they feast upon my grass-stained feet
All on a summers eve
Young lovers strip down, kissing perchance to swim
As jealous moon watches, and sunset grows dim
The sand dunes heat up, begging for skin on skin
All on a summers eve
Bold daisies flirt, nodding their modest heads,
Ivory faced roses blush, burning them red
Tiny seeds toss, and then shoot from their beds
All on a summers eve
Butterflies tease, as they flit-flutter by
Somewhere a windowsill holds fresh baked pie
Magic is born within jars of fireflies
All on a summers eve
Wild, woodland faeries dance in faerie rings
Children will grin, picking flowers to bring, to
Their surprised mothers, whose thankful hearts sing
All on a summers eve
Fishes gaze warily at worm-hooked poles
Marshmallows roast above fiery coals
Keen mother horses watch boisterous foals
All on a summers eve
Impatient winds blow, making love to the trees
Zephyrs entice; then enrage the calm seas
While lilies and hyacinths bewitch the breeze
All on a summers eve
Love will be found, and remembered, and made
Peace is a book, an old tree and its shade
Summer to me, tastes like cold lemonade
All on a summers eve
So, come with ye, summer; be gone snow and sleet!
I long to feel grass on the soles of my feet
And jump in the river as suns rays retreat
All on a summers eve
Shared 2nd place winner in Karen Neary's Summer Enchantment Rhymed
poetry contest. Thank you!!!
Categories:
foals, nature, sea, seasons, uplifting
Form:
Rhyme
FILLY’S FAMOUS STORY
Although I am pink, don’t ever think
That this filly is just frilly and silly,
For I am a thorough bred filly who instead
Of eating just oats, for my owner dotes
On me, am fed in a pasture of my very own,
Whose green grass is a sight to be seen,
And oh, so pristine!
What is my mode of work you might ask,
It certainly does not involve any task,
For I am shown off to the rich and elite,
Who think it’s an absolute treat,
To be shown a beauty like me
I do sound vain but where else would
They find a pink filly to see!
My mane is brushed every day,
With a gold plated brush by Fay,
She is so proud, I always draw a crowd,
And is quick to explain, I’m a descendant
From the stables of the ex and late
Senator Nicholas Brady, I’m no ordinary lady!
Fay has desperately tried to find me a mate,
But am truly fussy, I know my destiny and fate
Is not from the regular horses around, but to be
Found amongst the Arabian horses abroad, for imagine
A local brown dowdy horse, I’d be fraught!
Yes I’m a snob, my mate must be a real heart throb,
For my vision and dreams are of never
Ending meadows, and flowers, and trees and streams
And a handsome horse of the same breeding as me,
Maybe even a Lipizzaner who has a reputed background,
They have been around for quite a while, Fay reads
My thoughts and gives me a smile, hey Frilly don’t
Stress pretty friend, for it is my eternal intent,
That you be matched one day with an aristocratic
Horse, and together you will take a romantic course,
And have little foals, of which one might be pink,
So never, ever think that your predominant,
Pink genetic line will become extinct, you re such a
Refined fine filly, nothing about you is silly,
You will go down in history and be recorded,
As the most beautiful pink horse ever born,
Have patience, you will be rewarded!
Frilly looked at Fay, and gave her a neigh,
She loved Fay so, would Fay ever know, Frilly
Hoped so, for if Fay looked deep into Frilly’s
Eyes, Fay would know that she had won
Frilly’s heart as first prize!
Entering contest "A Fairy Tale For Children"
Sponsored By EVE ROPER
2019/01/27
Categories:
foals, horse,
Form:
Free verse
To thee I sing O’ muse of verse,
Of our world that the Gods do curse.
For what Gods are these who cruelly play,
Their wicked games, for which humans pay.
Not content with a world of joy & love
They spite us all from Olympus above.
To try us all & break our backs,
As this is drama their world lacks.
For even Achilles was to die,
Yet his name lives on as time goes by.
So let me sing to you of a Great man,
Who’s name too lives on, after his sands have ran.
Charlie his name a heart so pure,
Full of love & passion, & courage sure.
Strode in he did to save poor souls,
One loving lady & her three foals.
‘Tis true his anger at times did boil,
But his effort was not mere toil.
‘Coz though the fires sometimes burned,
He & the foals soon were learned,
That in peace & harmony, joyous times were had,
A man found proud to call Dad.
With he at their side those foals matured,
& They to his nature became inured.
His fair traits & wit passed down,
Championer of rights, humour of renown.
But alas the Gods were not appeased,
Their unending anger had not eased,
So Zeus sent down his violent bolt
& struck Charlie down, what was his fault?
Who knows but they I shall not dwell,
‘Tis but part of the story that I do tell.
For when he passed on & spirit released,
His body slowed & heart was ceased,
He left himself without a sound
& found himself to Olympus bound.
As he soared high like the dove
To the mount of the Gods high above,
He smiled to us all & sent a kiss
To all the people that he’ll miss.
& miss him back so we will,
That emptiness which we know can’t fill.
But hush your mourning & your sadness,
As he wished it show your gladness
That Charlie came & he all did touch,
Be thankful that we have that much.
So as I close this verse I do sing,
Aphrodite’s love & the fire Hephaestus does bring.
I say to thee be angry not at the Gods,
At Hera’s scheming & Zeus’s vile rods.
For they too bow to the fates,
Who plan our loves & plot our hates.
I thank thee all for your time,
For listening to my Ode to Charlie; my idle rhyme.
How I wish though, the outcome I could reverse,
I sing to thee, O’ muse of verse.
Categories:
foals, angst, family, world, heart,
Form:
Epic
Bone Lady.
Pippa Gray
If you have come for romance, please leave.
Follow the fireflies and they will lead you
back through the woods, to your manmade path.
There is no sweetness or solace here.
I am a thunderstorm, a fierce force of nature.
My heart is a patchwork quilt of tattered skins,
Hand stitched with lengths of bloodied sinew.
I shall decline your perfumes and silken robes.
For I have my bones.
I throw them upon my thighs and listen
as they whisper of your future.
The dark to come,
Creeping in through the corners, from all directions,
To disturb the parts of you, that you refuse to examine.
As for necklaces or gold
I have no time for tin trinkets.
My jewels are mustika pearls,
Dug with my hands from the corpses of snakes and foals, from red fox remains and oak tree roots. As I roll them in my palm,
their spirits share secrets such as you'll never know.
There's no polite conversation in this space.
Tell me of your descent into madness,
Where your mind wandered through worlds
not known in your pleasant awareness.
Where your limbs were torn apart by
winged shadow creatures,
Who devoured your flesh.
Do not ask to stay the night.
For salamanders sleep with me,
Gliding through the embers of the fire,
caressing my skin with their warm licking tongues.
And my journeys to the other worlds
are not to be disturbed by lonely, snoring men.
I am not to be rescued or conquered.
For I am vast, unchained...
Indeed, freer than you could ever hope to be!
You there, shrinking, stinking in your self imposed conformity,
while you weep at night for the lost parts of your soul.
They flew, my friend!
To be with the talking swans in the faery glen,
Where they could live the life that they deserved...
I spoke with them in the lowerworld!
And they do not wish to be returned to you anytime soon!
So leave quickly while you can.
Return to the old sprung bed where you were born,
Before you are forever changed
by the reflection in my eyes.
For once awoken,
You can never sleep soundly again.
Categories:
foals, magic, mystery, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
A life looks out on many scenes with many different eyes
With gasps of pure bewilderment, or sighs of soft surprise,
Though now and then it wanders by the river’s sacred song
It’s mostly when it’s dreams are deep, or when the night is long,
When breezes pluck those russet harp strings fluttering in the trees
The music is so sacred that each note drops to its knees,
And images of red and gold reach out upon the air
Until they drift back to forever, and they spread their carpet there.
A moment holds so many years, that’s how it sometimes seems
Yet there can still be the comfort of a nightlights gentle gleams,
For time can be irrelevant when days and nights combine
It just depends on who is making heaven’s softness shine,
A wish can turn to actual fact when it is asked for long enough
Like when life’s yoke is heavy, and its roads are getting rough,
Then suddenly we hear a song that makes us rest for just a while
And end up touching fingertips that soon lead into life’s sweet smile.
Forever can mean many things that mean much to our hearts and souls
Like teardrops on a Winter’s day or the first dances from new born foals,
A face remembered once again, or a smile across a crowded room
A lantern in a window penetrating through the evenings gloom,
Kneeling down upon the floor and Saying a sweet prayer
Before I stretch and yawn and then go wandering up the stair,
Reaching out across the bed to hug you in the rising dawn
Though some rhymes have passed us by, so many are still to be born…
Categories:
foals, appreciation, art, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Rhyme
Soon plan B will be presided
and the skies will cry
Is there some cause
to be opined
The fallow fields
on a horses meadow
with her Foals
presides over a warm spring
Lost promises by the trees
although with the beast lurking
St George he tried
to avenge the haunting
Categories:
foals, anxiety, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
In the realm of beguiling shadows where illusions paint the sky,
The bias for balance is ignored, as reason takes its flight.
Disregarding the light of truth, madness steers the moral tales,
Woven through repetitive histories, hearts are chained in the prisons of insanity.
Divide and conquer, their ancient script,
In this illusion of choice, we step on a false stage.
Stones are thrown at the poet's fragile glass house,
Hypocrisy overshadows common sense, allowing deceit to pass.
With pen and sword, deceit weaves its dark attire,
Propaganda, a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing entire.
In a minefield of twisted visions, obscurity feeds on souls,
Nurturing the monsters born from the cries of broken foals.
Forgotten are the teachings of shattered hearts,
While hope falls, a victim of unspoken words.
Oppression and inequity shout loudly in the tears of the privileged,
As the waters of decadence spill, unloosing the poet's glass walls.
Through the mist of silent nights, hope dares not retreat,
Under the weight of a starless sky, it stumbles on weary feet.
Yet within the shadowed depths, a truth barely glows,
A beacon through the darkness, ever softly it shows.
For in the darkest corners, truth leaves an eternal trace,
A faint echo, a whispered note, in search of its rightful place.
In the heart where illusions crumble, the soul finds sweet release,
And the poet’s glass house, though fragile, finds true peace.
Mystical winds of destiny, spread your veiled wings,
Through twilight realms and silent screams, where the lost heart sings.
In a dance of shadows and light, the mystic path reveals,
Where the lines of fate intertwine with the soul's forgotten tales.
Categories:
foals, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Such a beautiful sight a valley of snowdrops, white heads nodding in approval of our love. We wander hand in hand no more lookng back, just forward, stepping into the Spring time and the wonders of the new.
tiny sprouting leaves
flowers nodding downwards ...
spring morning
Walking together in the countryside, we stop and kiss, just so happy to be together at last, lambs with bobbing tails watch tentatively, nervously bleating for their mam's shelter . A lone donkey in with a full of horses with their foals, is so happy as he feeds.
in green pastures
horses are grazing ...
springtime feeds the eyes
Our love has stood the test of time, new beginnings spring forth. Looking towards the winter of our lives together.
a glowing sun sinks
awaking lonely hearts ...
love blooms
Categories:
foals, love, spring, happy, spring,
Form:
Prose Poetry
All aboard this train of thought,
where thoroughbreds are sold and bought,
mares are bred and their foals taught,
raised and fed, turned out and caught,
For all to know, this train of thought,
inspired my soul, one rainy night,
as I awoke and turned on the light,
I was aboard this train of thought,
Now we're on this train in the country,
in the rolling hills of Duchess County,
such a beautiful place for the eye to see,
Amenia, due north of New York City,
Where horses graze so happy and free,
on one hundred acres in tranquility,
where dear God blessed them all to be,
on Frank Stellas farm, Delehanty,
Where Frank Stella shared a part,
of his soul, mind and heart,
raising thoroughbreds from their start,
and gathered thoughts for his granduer art,
Where horses run so happy and free,
in the land of natures grand majesty,
Where Frank refined thoughts of artistry
on the beautiful farm....Delehanty
Categories:
foals, introspection, nature, people, placeshappy,
Form:
Rhyme
The old country vet traversed Henry County over hill and dell.
He was a familiar sight in his buggy pulled by his horse, old Nelly Bell!
He served farmers and ranchers for nigh on two generations,
Deliverin' calves, foals and lambs and performin' tricky operations.
He left the comfort of his bed on many a cold and blustery night,
To help a cow deliver her calf by the mellow glow of a lantern light.
He'd been kicked by cantankerous mules and butted by grumpy goats;
Spat upon by numerous llamas and trampled by chargin' shoats;
Bitten by mean old junkyard dogs and clawed by feral cats;
Gored by irate bulls and pestered by stingin' gnats!
He witnessed the miracle of birth durin' his practice of many years,
And won the confidence of his clients and the esteem of his peers.
Though he had some book learnin' he mostly taught himself.
He never aspired to become rich and had little of the world's pelf.
He recognized that God created all creatures great and small,
And suffered the hazards of the job to treat and love them all!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Categories:
foals, animal,
Form:
Rhyme
After the rigors of winter,
Buried by mountains of snow,
Counting the days until springtime,
Delighted to see winter go.
Emerging flowers entrance me,
Fields of daffodils brighten my day,
Gladly, I listen to bird song,
Happy to feel the sun's ray.
I welcome each sign of the springtime,
Just reacting with joy to its spell.
Kittens and puppies appearing,
Lambs, foals and new calves as well.
More birds are coming and staying.
Nests cover the branches of trees.
Odors, mysterious, surround me,
Perfuming the mild springtime breeze.
Quivers of arrows from Cupid
Reach all the young lovers in spring.
Spurring the heart of the young swain
To happily buying a ring.
Utmost beauty surrounds me,
Views through my window entrance.
Winter is now just a memory,
Xray vision unveils the spring dance.
Yearnings unnamed are the thing.
Zealously, I embrace the new spring.
Written 2/15/15
Categories:
foals, spring, daffodils,
Form:
Abecedarian
The tracks of life are set for replay
But we clear our path with might and goals
Sprinting onward come what may.
Looming clouds in our day
Threaten our sunshine, black as coals-
The tracks of life are set for replay.
If golden sunlight’s our pay
We grow for the race, just like foals-
Sprinting onward come what may.
Sometimes we glow from a beaming ray.
Who often foils our best laid goals?
The tracks of life are set for replay
We know the rules and follow them all the way
And carefully run for our souls
Sprinting onward come what may.
Great men and women all made from clay
Some are false starters some are moles;
The tracks of life are set for replay;
Sprinting onward come what may.
Categories:
foals, life,
Form:
Villanelle
(sorry, Tirzah, I could not do a nice long poem on horses.
I just felt like doing some silly limericks playing off expressions
for horses. Thanks for the inspiration!)
I Hate that Horse
There’s a horse that I so hate to see,
And at night sometimes he visits me.
His attack to my thigh
Makes me think I might die.
That Charly Horse acts horribly!
Horses Have Ears, Ya Know
“I could eat a horse!” hungry bob said
To his friends as he rode his horse, Ned.
Taking it the wrong way,
Ned reared up with a “neigh!”
Bob fell off and got kicked in the head.
Pony Up
“Pony up,” said the seamstress in town
With the new bride’s hand-sewn beaded gown.
But having no dough,
The bride cast her eyes low,
Saying, “Sorry, but my pony is down.”
In Our One Horse Town
We love ostriches. Haven’t you heard?
Yes, it’s true, and I give you my word
Just one old mare lives here.
Had no foals; she is *****.
So each cowboy just rides a bird!
For Tirzah's "A Horse is a Horse of Course" contest
Categories:
foals, funnyhate, horse,
Form:
Limerick
The night was strangely hushed and cloaked
by the clouds scuttling across the silvery moon.
The breeze made the night air feel chilled,
yet her flanks were covered in sweat
as she strained, muscles quivering and chest heaving.
It had to be quick as she could hear predators
for now in the far distance yet moving in.
Still she strained the legs and face now visible.
One last final thrust and it is born already
struggling to find its feet and be ready to flee.
Anxiously the mother licked and licked
stimulating muscles, nerves and blood.
Valiantly the baby stands and starts to suckle
its feet going every which way as it fights
for control over its unruly members.
Within five minutes its ready to run
its mother calls it deep into the herd.
Surrounding them with a protective barrier
Out of all this years Zebra foals only a
handful will survive and sire other foals.
The rest falling prey to Lions and other cats
the crocs too will feast at the river crossings.
The odd sickly ones become dinner for hyena's.
Such is life on the East African plains, nature
culls all but the fittest ensuring strong blood lines.
Categories:
foals, birth, dark, nature,
Form:
Verse