Best Mustang Poems
Wind drinkers flow with strength and grace.
Thunder pounds from their hooves.
Run wild Mustang, Run.
As one they "run" across parched earth,
born free and "wild" from the time of birth.
Their manes flow "as" water, in the wind.
Hooves dig in, "the" desert floor, they rend.
Full moon at "midnight" leads their way,
while in the night "sky" their ancestors play.
Paula Swanson
For the contest: Middle Of The Road
Sponsored by H Garvey Daniel Esquire
Placement: 1st
I have a friend by the name of Tim,
He keeps in shape when frequents the gym.
His Kelly green Mustang he drove
And smack'd it into a cove.
The witches got him and ate one of his limbs!
Dorian Petersen
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
October,5,2014
Nevada desert
Wild, kicking. the Mustang horse
Answers to no one.
I still have dreams of my favorite car
It took me to places not really far
On some days it would not start
One day it just fell apart
So few moments we were on par
A Mustang and a Thunderbird tangled
Both automobiles were badly mangled
When the cops sorted it out
There was seen strewn all about
Horse manure and feathers when untangled
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 in PD's "Another Crazy & Fun Limerick Contest #2" - June 2012
A pure breed horse worth value
When pureblood doesn't mix out of its kind
A kind of horse which lives within the wilderness
It's known to be the leader of its herd
When it runs in front of the rest
To lead them to safety or migrate to another location
A horse like this has royalty blood
Royalty pass down from generation to generation
A nonstop tradition among them.
Sometimes they fight when a horse sees
Its leader is becoming unfit to lead its herd.
They fight for royalty position.
They are known to be a stallion
This is an unattainable wild horse.
A horse such as this one is rare to be caught
They fight for their freedom from being captured
A horse senses good and bad.
When a wild horse senses good in you
It'll sense it from your vibes when it senses good.
They'll resistless and finally give in when it knows you'll be a good owner and treat it right. A horse becomes your best friend. They'll go home with you.
If a horse senses bad vibes from you.
It'll escape and attain its freedom from being captured
Mistreated and kept in a stable under poor conditions.
A horse with beautiful skin, shiny and black
To thy mustang horse, I rather see you from the distance
I prefer to see you run wild along with the rest of your herd.
Running along with your kind as a leader.
I hear you stomp your hoof loudly onto the ground when you irritated or-
When something is bothering you.
What makes you elegant is when you stand and
raise your forearms by bending your knee to lift your cannon and pastern high towards the air
Your worth thousands due to your astounding beauty and purity.
Sometimes when the sun reflects on your skin.
You reflect that shine due to your beauty within your skin
No Cobra 427
in my Mustang
come on girls
you know what I mean.
No leather interior
in my Mustang
come on gals
you get what I mean.
My Mustang has the
manual shift
don't you girls
know what I mean?
My Mustang has leather
exterior
can't you gals
get what I mean?
My Mustang races
at breakneck speeds
I ride on his back
a grin on my face.
By now you've guessed
what my Mustang is
not only my ride
he's the friend by my side.
My little Mustang Girl
Lost am I, in this gray wilderness.
A beautiful place, but what a mess.
An exotic vision, riding your Mustang.
A heard, the head of this wild gang
of experiences roaming this wilderness,
electrical impulses, I must confess
permeate every, neural pathway,
every synaptic cleft willing to fray
within this old brain, this fragile heart,
yet never to know the joy of a new start.
I see you upon your Mustang, sitting erect,
sun in your lovely face, hair streaming, what effect.
A vision of a wild and beautiful Mustang, free,
mane and tale floating upon memories, for me.
Galloping down the hallways of my memories hoard
where all the beauty, I experienced with you, is stored.
Leading this heard further and further into the universe
you’ve run me to the edge, leaving little more for this verse,
except to wonder, why ?, do I still hang on so
to this love for you that I came to know.
B. J. “A” 2
January 11 2015
Trotting the meadow,
Mustangs prancing the prairie;
The dance of the horse.
I'll bet you Five, I'll bet you Ten,
I'll even wager Fifty,
That you can't make this "Stang" wake up,
And hit an even Sixty!
The boy looked round and took his eyes
From off the road ahead
I'll take that bet, I'll make it do
Much more than that, he said
Fifty-five and Sixty came,
Then Eighty-Five flashed by
And with it passed that Mustang
Into the bye and bye.....
I'll bet you Five, I'll bet you Ten,
I'll even wager Fifty,
That these new Wings will carry us
A pace to better Sixty
Off they go and race like mad
They've torn the place into?
Better shift again .....boys,
Old Satan's .. chasin.... YOU!
**********************************8
JetfireK Inspired by Lucky #
13) "Drive carefully, 90% of people are accidents. "
- Anonymous
First, I was a horse,
proud, fierce, untamed.
testing the texture of one continent,
competing with the winds and tornadoes
to achieve the ultimate granular vortex,
testing the manhood of the Cheyenne,
twisting the blistering ropes of the Sioux,
defying the white man with bared, scornful teeth
and a rusty, booming cloud of contempt,
rearing up disdainful hoofs at his challenge
of a lumbering smoking iron donkey
trapped on it's molded rails.
Then, I was a plane,
lithe, lightweight, defined.
with a body DaVinci once dreamed of
and a clear canopy
of tense eyes and sweaty, twitching fingers
on the throttle.
Soaring high over another continent,
beaten down by polished black boots.
The elegant, rich roar of Rolls Royce,
The searing steel death of Browning,
clamping together to mete out
justice and liberty,
higher and faster than any swastika propellers.
Then I was a car,
with clean lines and a pure promise,
born of optimism and innovation,
first brought forth under a steel sphere of the world.
My lean, youthful frame and bristling energy
beckoned to the untamed young,
bringing elation and
the whoops of warriors
as they pony up precious pennies
to slip easily into my low slung, leather saddle
and pick their soundtrack
and flick my fresh rubber hooves
across the next horizon.
Their nubile females in splendid mating colors
ponytails wagging their eager assent
in my ever growling breeze
as I assault their narrow strips of tar.
I have thundered through untrod dust.
I have been caught only by men like Remington.
I have sailed above exploding black skies
and landed farm boys safely to their futures.
I have raced through muggy summer nights,
blaring out my rebellion to a rock and roll beat.
I am freedom in flesh and hooves
and wings and guns
and canvas tops and pinstripes.
I am what Art should be:
I am versatile.
I speak in a thousand ways
in a thousand forms.
I please the eye and thrill the soul.
I am ..ME.
I, Mustang, am the stuff of legends
Roaming the Northwestern badlands
Of the United States in small herds.
I'm poetry in motion when I gallop,
Propelled forward by hinterland winds!
The quintessence of beauty, grace, and freedom!
I'm a social, wild horse breed; part of a herd
Consisting of a stallion, colts, a harem of mares
And their foals. I mature sexually at the age of three,
And I mate from April to July.
As a male, I'm known as a "stallion,"
The fierce herd defender. I group into a circle
Around the herd with other males to
Fight off predators; chief among them
Are wolves and coyotes.
As a female, I'm known as a "mare,"
I lead the herd away from danger.
I usually give birth to one foal,
But sometimes I deliver twins.
My gestation is roughly eleven months.
A herbivore, I eat only grass and foliage
I can grow up to 56 inches in height or more.
I communicate by whinnying and whickering
To the herd. I loudly snort to alert
Other mustangs of danger.
Need I remind you of my perseverance?
To withstand very harsh environments,
I can go for more than one week
Without water or food if necessary.
My lifespan in the wild is about twenty years.
Date written: 09/03/2022
When a Ford Mustang and a T-Bird collided it created a mess for sure!
When cops arrived on scene all that remained was a pile of feathers and a heap of manure!
A wild mustang blew over the steppe, a solitary
Pale rider rushing over the chest planes to greet me
Engulfing, stampeding through sharp wicked valleys
And emotions were herded into a bone corral
Slamming the gates against this Dun Stallion’s
hips, while he frothed at these invisible bits
Dusty huffs, wheezing breaths,
The rails splintering under his sharp teeth
Hooves hammering thoughts homeless, for
And that last nail to hold him from freedom, from me
Faltered, as my ribs caved in
And he drifted off again
My Wild-Mustang
Running free
Tis ways of Your Spirit
Shall always be..
Wanting Love
But yet.. Wild-within
You want to be
tho.. True Love to behold
Within My heart for thee..
But as we both know
Wild-Mustang
Always Run.. on the go...
Running down.. winding roads..
Within this earthly Life
What.. Wonders Love
Truly beholds
Perhaps... maybe fear of
Mustang being trapped
Within a Fence.. place in Corral
Not able to run Free
Of Love.. True Extents
Yes.. My Wild-Mustang
As I see..
Let go.. Let God..
Give you speed-fast as the wind
Let You know
You No longer be
bound unto me
As you had once said..
But then again..
Bound is your Spirit
Within the Wild-Wind
Your heart tis be
Ever Sweeet as a honeycomb
Your Spirit.. tis a Wild-Mustangs tis roams
Sweeet tender heart.. Loving and kind
For You are.. Wild-N Free
As tho
within my dreams
I Shall behold
Always "You and Me'
Thank God.. For you are a True Blessing
May Your Spirit Run..
Fast as the Wind
With God Speed..
Just Never let go..
Of Alpha and Omega
God Almighty Love you know
Wind of God"s Speed--Run Wild Mustang.. Your Free..
As I see.. Tis God planned for You to be..
honeycomb heart.. Sweeeeet..
Post this one just for you..