Best Thoroughbreds Poems
Ancient Arabians, mother to all
Bloodlines, essence of exquisiteness
Clydesdales, symmetry of strength
Dignity of duty, power of purpose
Ebony elegance, midnight silk
Friesians, crusaders in
Galloping gallantry
Hardy hearts, tiny and tenacious
Icelandic horses, gaited grace over
Jagged soil, volcanic climes
Kaleidoscope diamonds, lissome finesse
Lipizzaners, dancer of moonbeam dreams
Mustang beauty, bred by
Nature, to run in
Open grasslands, their hides
Paints of freedom
Quarter horses, nimble and surefoot across
Ranges unfenced, corralling waves of herds
Sleek strides, sinewy speed
Thoroughbreds, spirits of the wind
Unbridled, they fill all
Valleys and vistas in
Wild wonder; with Alexander and
Xerxes, they conquered the world
You may say these are outside the list
Zebras, to me - the mounts of fairies and myth
2/16/20
Categories:
thoroughbreds, freedom, horse, inspirational,
Form:
Abecedarian
He claimed the highest perch
in the breeding loft and was, by far,
the biggest pigeon in the flock.
I named him Hector.
A thick, puffed up ball
of red feathers and testosterone
made him stand out
and was a gift from a leading fancier
eager to improve the bloodlines
of my rather lowly lot,
some of whom were descendents
of birds rescued from the local
railway station stock.
Poor company
to the haughty
racing thoroughbreds
of the Queenstown pigeon club.
Hector had only one leg
and would stand balanced
on a single pin. I often wondered
whether he was gifted to me
as a joke. Unfortunately
he was no good at breeding
as he kept falling off the hen
before he had the chance to mate.
It seems pigeons need
both legs to balance long enough
to conclude the act
and poor Hector would
always topple off too soon.
He found no outlet
for his lust and added no royalty
to the genes
of my rather peasant flock.
Before I reached my teens,
interest in pigeons had waned
and the few short years
of racing them came to a close.
By then Hector had escaped
carrying his frustrations
and pedigree off into the blue.
Much to the chagrin
of the local racing elite,
a small, scruffy hen,
part progeny of the railway
station stock, had scored
a number of prestigious wins.
The club was glad
to see me go and my name
somehow quickly fell
from the honor wall
like Hector off a hen.
Categories:
thoroughbreds, bird, humor, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
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:
thoroughbreds, introspection, nature, people, placeshappy,
Form:
Rhyme
With a snakelike hiss, the train doors close
the engine rocks and rumbles on clicking
over welded metal couplings: iced, glazed, froze,
the steam heat in clouds arose, rail licking.
On velvet we sit, lace behind our heads,
stewards bring tea for the clock is ticking.
High tea at five, we're fed like thoroughbreds
for dinners late (at eight) in formal dress.
A honeymoon for two not quite purebreds.
1/24/15
Categories:
thoroughbreds, travel, vacation,
Form:
Terza Rima
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:
thoroughbreds, horse, race,
Form:
Acrostic
'Twas pouring, and the thoroughbreds
Did gallop and thunder in the rain.
All muddy were the jockeys' silks,
And the weather quite insane.
"Beware the Kentucky Derby, Son!
Fame and fortune the trainers haunt.
Beware the length of the Preakness run,
And the exhausting Belmont."
He took the leather reins in hand.
Long time the winning horse he sought.
So mounted he on the saddle tree
And rode awhile in thought.
And as in dreaming thought he rode,
Secretariat, with eyes of brown,
Came sprinting through the tiring pack
Searching for renown.
One, two! One, two! and through and through-
The other jocks did frown-
He crossed the line by thirty-one lengths
And won the Triple Crown!
"And did we win the Triple Crown?
To the winner's circle, my wonder horse."
O fantastic day. Hurrah! Hooray!
The multitude did discourse.
'Twas pouring, and the thoroughbreds
Did gallop and thunder in the rain.
All muddy were the jockeys' silks,
And the weather quite insane.
Categories:
thoroughbreds, horse, race,
Form:
The Andalusian tops my list,
So elegant with eyes like mist;
But the Quarter horse isn’t far behind,
Praised for their intelligent mind;
And next we have the Cleveland Bay,
Wonderful sport horses are they;
The Warmblood’s are a canny cross,
Drafts and thoroughbreds with sauce;
And the Lusitano can’t be beat,
Their temperament is usually sweet;
The Paso Fino with gaits of gold,
Their heaven to ride, or so I’m told;
The Fell Pony is solid black,
And the perfect size to carry a pack;
The Paint’s are sure a colorful set,
From black to blonde and even brunette;
The Arabian is dainty yet strong,
Hot blooded but with them you can’t go wrong;
And the Friesian with it’s feathered feet,
Now makes my list of ten complete!
~For Adeleke's Top Ten Contest~
Categories:
thoroughbreds, animals
Form:
Couplet
In numerous locales countrywide, they hold sway
Pirouetting at intervals like ballerinas from Bolshoi
Beauteous, feline and very feminine
Slender to the point of emaciation, not quite
Cultivating the undernourished look on a frugal diet
Decidedly austere for a longer tenure in the limelight
Basking in the fleeting warmth of an adulatory audience
A gathering of the doting kindred and the upwardly mobile
Some dirty old men on the sly, dirty young men too
Glued to their seats craning for a better view
By and large captive by choice, a handful perforce
Sitting through to pen their weekly column
Giving those they fancy their due in the sun
Witnesses to a parade of demure eyed lasses
And a few with flashy looks walking tall on stilettos
Essentially female and contoured though not prominently so
At least not to a marked degree, yet with excellent muscle tone
Opulence, no longer deemed a career necessity
Once considered right stuff, now rejected as wrong size
An hour-glass shape belonging to an age bygone
But hardly so, from the viewers’ mind, in retrospect
Enchanting and alluring yet not overtly titillating
Each in a state of dress and undress
Willing tools of designers flaunting their creations
Sporting dresses and hats and shoes, and lingerie too
In black or white and loud or subdued hues
Displaying formal wear, casual wear, swimsuits and sleep suits
Some scanty and figure hugging, others flowing and loose
A bony look required for some, others fulsome
A voyeur’s paradise, to be sure
Indulging a fetish without stooping too low
Chilly weather was never reason enough to cancel a show
Heat of arc-lamps taking care of goose pimples
Or brandy taken neat infusing the needed heat
Harbingers of tomorrow’s fashion and pall-bearers of today’s
The strobe lit platform of the pageant
Serving to launch new faces or is it legs?
The leggy look personified by Twiggy of yore
Carried through in the interim and sustained by the new genre
Captivating without doubt, and thorough professionals
Displaying unruffled demeanour and tutored bearing of thoroughbreds
Exuding confidence with every graceful step they take
Cool as ice despite the harsh glare of stage lights
And callous catcalls from boorish males
Performing in a backdrop of future fashion trends
Money and fame finding some, eluding others
Be it centre stage or in the shadows
It is bread on the catwalk for all
Categories:
thoroughbreds, tribute, men,
Form:
Free verse
Yes, it's the racing carnival,
Fashionistas so topical,
Significance trivial,
Lovely fillies,
Eye candy,
Drunk and silly,
Studs in suits,
Looking beaut,
Glitterati,
Haves and wannabes,
For the paparazzi,
Doyens of the racing industry,
You all look fabulous,
Gambling magnanimous,
Thoroughbreds' gloss,
Media hype and dross,
Great racing day,
Booze, bets and babes,
Stuff the plebs today,
Our public holiday,
Melbourne Cup Day!
Categories:
thoroughbreds, holiday, race,
Form:
Free verse
So here I am in Saratoga,
Quite a lovely place,
But visitors must do their part
And watch the horses race.
The weather was cooperative;
The seats were in the shade.
The thoroughbreds looked just the way
That racers are portrayed.
Such fun it was to place a bet
And root with all my might.
Though winning was the icing,
I enjoyed each single bite.
I love the town of Saratoga -
Hope that I'll come back;
But if I do then once again,
You'll find me at the track.
Categories:
thoroughbreds, horse, travel,
Form:
Rhyme
A spider spreads its web of silken threads
shimmering all silvery white by the lake
waiting guileless for preys to find their breads
Its way is not to tear victims to shreds
a kind of dignity is here at stake
a spider spreads its web of silken threads
To ensnare gently unwary flies' heads
showing a slow death dance they will partake
waiting guileless for preys to find their breads.
Self-respecting spiders are thoroughbreds
no tangled webs they weave for spinning sake
a spider spreads its web of silken threads.
widow spider catches the fly it weds
unlucky ones just follow in their wake
waiting guileless for preys to find their breads
wet tendrils of fog become beaded heads
a string of tiny diamonds they make
A spider spreads its web of silken threads
waiting guileless for preys to find their breads.
@jjote posted 06/09/16
Categories:
thoroughbreds, fun,
Form:
Villanelle
Plastic baby Jesus, little drummer boy
Decorate the tree along with Rudolph
And all the ho ho his of part time Santas
Doing time with Salvation Army bell ringers.
City parades, sparkly lights and garland.
Street candy canes all cry out, "See, were happy,
Joyous and free!" Such is the hypocritical
Holidays endured by us sidewalk thoroughbreds.
For a couple weeks you throw us trinkets,
Chocolate s and turkey dinners believing
You've done miraculous things that help
You sleep at night in your mansion on the hill.
Celebrities use the time for photo ops of
Comedy serving the rabble pumpkin
Pie along with oily smiles of insincere
Wishes. Shut up and give me another Piece of pie!
Why do we need to be reminded about life
That no longer exists. Do you want us to cry
On our grubby clothes with gratitude? Why
Is us thanking you so important?
So, yes, I'll take your change when you
See my sign saying "I'm trying to get home.""
I'll take my change and buy the only holiday
I'll get this year. The comfort and joy of bygones.
Categories:
thoroughbreds, allusion, holiday,
Form:
Free verse
A barrel of oink is a snout snaffling. Order of pig sect of oink. In a pink summersaulting cartwheeling ham chunk. Wee wee weeeee. Rolling. Hilltop. Hollybush road. Rhododendron. Raid bit trade. Road not noted. To be seen is to chippy tea and biscuits and caked bacon chop. Large amounts of stew. Hahahaha and now a fish earring. Hahahaha and a wastepaper basket with ten arms and twenty legs. Attempting the javelin. Oh how great. Fantastic. Such array. Magnitude. Fortitude questioned whether it is a village? Hahahaha rapid trend annual annuls **** analogues. No hahahaha to that toothpick asylum. Nor grin. Pitter patter then. Thoroughbreds' leaving now so goodbye. Gooseherds' and gooseheads with lemon sauce drip. Pachydermia. Xzx
Categories:
thoroughbreds, adventure, anniversary, appreciation,
Form:
In a hallowed grandstand,
I do quietly sit,
high above the noise
and ruckus of the pit.
Staring out upon
a curving, long race-track,
as thoroughbreds set off
running races back-to-back.
Around me are sitting
a mannered, genteel crowd,
dressed up to the nines,
only deigning to be loud
when jockeys round the curve,
pulling hard for home,
and the losing bets first scream,
then so loudly moan.
I don't think they really care
all that much for the horse,
it's the gambling that brought them,
and brings them back for more.
It kind of reminds me
of NASCAR when I think
of all those horses turning left,
it's kinda the same thing!
But I don't dare mention that,
if I did these people all
would rush me with intentions bad,
claiming they're shocked and appalled,
I guess it's really not my crowd,
and next Saturday I shall go
down the road for a real good time
at the weekly, circuit rodeo.
Ride 'dem broncs! Y'aahhh!
Categories:
thoroughbreds, culture, games, horse, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Through the forest tear thirteen fine thoroughbreds
Fraught with tension they flick their fair heads
Thrashing through the thickest thickets fittest first
Thundering from forest for the fields they thirst
Freed from their flight they finish together
Thirteen fine thoroughbreds frolic forever
Contest : Twist my Tongue
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
8th Place
Categories:
thoroughbreds, animal, horse,
Form:
Rhyme