Best Trotting Poems
The Unicorn
Once upon a time…
an incredible event occurred that was so sublime.
On a warm summer night many years ago,
awakened by the rhythmic tempo
of hoof beats coming from the yard below,
I peered outside my bedroom window.
There on my lawn I was astonished to see,
a silver-white unicorn peering back at me.
Dressed in only a nightie, I dashed out my front door;
and found him frolicking, prancing to and fro.
Sparkling as he was under a silvery moonbeam,
I wondered if this was only a surreal dream.
He was handsome, noble, and dignified,
so confident and assured trotting to my side.
In awe of this mythical creature, I couldn’t speak,
but gently patted him from cheek to glowing cheek.
His well-groomed mane felt like satin and silk,
with a faint scent of harvested hay and fresh milk.
Then I heard from inside my head,
a deep, masculine voice which stately said,
“Your Majesty, it would be my great honor
to take you on a tour of celestial wonder!”
Reverently he bowed, as I, completely taken aback,
hesitantly mounted his muscular unsaddled back.
Time stood still as he swept me away,
right through the heart of the magnificent Milky Way.
We flew past amazing asteroids, planets, moons,
and zillions of stars looking like fiery, bulging balloons.
In flight, we traveled at the very speed of light,
and I was exhilarated with unbridled delight.
Returning me to Earth, he bowed his gallant head;
and as I dismounted graciously said,
“It’s been a pleasure, my dear Queen;
so long, and I’ll see you in your dreams!”
But even though our voyage of discovery was over,
that mystical experience changed my life forever.
Never again have I seen the unicorn on my lawn,
but from time to time, between midnight and dawn,
in my dreams, I hear a voice that’s oddly familiar
call out my name in a velvety whisper.
And somehow I know that it’s my old friend…
who’ll be watching over me ‘til the end.
02-03-2017
Contest: Once Upon a Time
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Placement: 10th
Categories:
trotting, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Awesomely white, amazingly glorious
Bible Revelation Horse* --- victorious…
Carrying CHRIST from heaven celestial
Driven for tasks, divinely essential…
Enthusiastic, daring, energetic
Fulfilling well roles that are prophetic…
Governed by truth and wisdom of Scriptures
Hoisting faith along God’s kingdom ventures…
Instructed upon righteousness' great stride
Jumping over trials midst holy pride…
Kingly Saviour’s Horse bearing gracious light
Leading fellow stallions with goodness flight…
Mounting against evil for love to reign
Never neglecting duty of peace gain…
Optimizing strength as the Lord’s War Horse
Powerfully propelled by triumph force…
Quick to respond toward blest reaching-out
Readily hurdling tests of hardships- bout…
Steadfast and stable to smite sin downfall
Trotting above frustration neigh and call…
Upheld to ascend via kindness’ speed
Vanquishing hate by Master’s loving deed…
Winning favor of supreme Commander
X-ing out loss, praising Servant Leader…
Yielded to Creator Almighty
Zealous joyful Horse toward eternity.
*Revelation 19:11 And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war.
October 8, 2021
(Abecedarian in couplet form)
3rd place, "A Notable Horse" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori; judged on 10/14/2021.
Categories:
trotting, appreciation, christian, faith, god,
Form:
Abecedarian
Just like football I am waiting ,
on the side line,
To go up on the field,
Yes we are playing Goodooga,
Aboriginal big guys, tough as steel.
Here comes Albert racing faster,
Trotting down the bloody wing,
Gotta stop him, take him head on,
Hit his ankles, the hurting thing .
Fell him like a big old tree,
Pot belly lands on me ,
I’m a still a seeing stars,
Shadow sparring,
all round me ,
Get up you silly Galah.
So there I was out on the wing ,
Waiting for a pass to me.
Intercept, Albert's a coming ,
he passes ball, dodges see .
Just a few of broken arms,
Black eyes worn with pride.
Rugby Leage what a battle ,
Carry the ball through the other side.
Running for the other goal,
Sidestepped Albert, got there see.
Not a bloody forward pass, (illegal)
Planted it between the trees.
At 17 I was in an interstate game,
between Dirranbandi n Goodooga, we lost. (shame)
Categories:
trotting, adventureme,
Form:
Ballad
One day a scruffy looking dog turned up on the doorstep,
an independent sort of lad. Now to who do you belong?
wondered the boy calling for his dad. "Look Dad can we keep him"
"Well while we look for his owners. He must belong to someone"
Time went on and they called him Wag as his tail never stopped.
He always stayed near to young Tim somehow knowing he was ill.
Saved his life too a few times until the day came when
Tim fell into a coma his young body ravished by the cancer.
After the funeral Wag went to the man and laid his head on his knee,
Then the man realised that Wag's time here was done and he was saying goodbye.
The last he saw of him he was trotting north, purpose in every stride.
He thought to himself in nine years he never seemed to age.
So he did some research and the stories of Wag were astonishing,
where ever a child was mortally ill Wag would turn up bringing Joy.
These story spanned over sixty years yet Wag looked around three.
What ever you are he thought thank you for making Tim's life easier.
As for Wag, well he travelled on until he got to Mary's home.
There he stayed for twelve years bringing her cheer each day.
Yet when ever a picture was taken, he would not be in it.
To this day none know why but all love him and all call him Wag.
Categories:
trotting, dog, friend,
Form:
Prose
I am in my house,
With a panicked mouse.
Coming back from the fridge
Going through the sand-ridge
Into its hole in a jiffy
Then squeaking out - Yippee !
Then come two rats
With a hard pat on the back
Running along with its mate
Making things obfuscate
Around the bagful of nickels
Crossing the jar full of pickles
The rat and its mate came back trotting
With a block of cheese that was rotting
After some time in a line
Came a parade f rats and mice
With and hats and lice.
Everyone was mournful
But a mouse eating a mouthful
Who was happy and glad
Was making everyone sad.
He ate with nosh
Wearing a hat that was posh
After hogging and stuffing
He got up puffing,
Ready for his quest
Sqeaking good bye to the rest,
He leaped across a runnel
And ran into a thicket
Never to be spotted again.
Categories:
trotting, cat, fun, house, simple,
Form:
Rhyme
Where to? Just to walk?
Dressed in long garment like ghost?
A question mark in purse… gold!?
She preferred a walk!
Missed her crooked edgy boat!
Just went to walk down the road…
Looking at picture
In the hands of the painter
Van Gogh’s mystery nurtured
He drew her prayer…
In her purse she did question
Why!? Was just a tough question
Wondering how could
That happen in night’s second!
Hefty waters dashing… haunt!!
The chimney trembles!
An earthquake wakes up fixed days!
See a muddy unpaved ways?
Though all wide paved roads
Reach Britania’s bay… north?
Shown on left corner’s foot’s coy
Enlarge picture here…
Her garment is night-time sleep
See the shooting stars racing heap?
Umbrella is closed
Carried lest harsh rain is dropped
Fall signed surprises to roll…
The roof is breaking!
But picture of landscape’s tweak
Is seven degrees… earthquake’s squeeze!
What caused that earthquake?
Look close… hills’ dance! Wave!
Tsunamis launch big headache…
The sun’s round high rays
Amazing view! Beneath slate!
Above roof tops water stays!
Can’t take my eyes off
That white house’ name looks… hello!
Van Gogh meant… white house we know..!
The cleverest knew
Floods and blubbers can dash through
The Atlantic Ocean’s see through..!
Since past styles distort
But now all styles run the show
The broken boat… does not flow!
The ark as in boat..!!
Seems like Noah’s ark… didn’t row!
Got broken on hills… the road!
Looks like Broken Wa-
gon town fits show on sheer Van
Gogh’s print… water’s sketch grade’s class!
Under her smooth feet
Hilltops’ visage… very week...
Vast landscapes flattened… see here?
Till water recedes…
With hefty tears of few years
Trotting in Van Gogh’s tart dreams.
BY: Nadia F. Shahwan – September 2009. The portrait of “White House at night” by Vincent
Van Gogh was the inspiration of my poem-Seven Degrees.
Categories:
trotting, arthouse, water, house, water,
Form:
Choka
Boundless Blue
Born in a misty rainbow,
Blue slips out from her place
between her sisters Green and Violet,
painting the heavens azure,
covering the earth like the robe of Virgin Mary.
She floats into the ocean in a navy dress,
then waltzes on waves of the Danube.
Sailing the teal waters of alpine lakes,
she journeys to glaciers,
leaving her daiquiri-colored footprints on glacial ice,
taking some with her to cool the fires of Robert Frost.
She treads into meadows and gardens,
planting delphiniums, lupines, hydrangeas,
bluebells, and cornflowers to sprout in her wake,
with morning glories to climb fences.
People copy her free spirit,
painting their china in Delft and willow patterns,
sing “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Blue Velvet,”
“Blue Moon,” “Blue Hawaii,”
even play “Rhapsody in Blue” on their pianos,
blow their cobalt glass, dye their denims,
even their ice cream and candy.
They try to capture her lapis, turquoise, and royal sapphires,
pressing them into frames of silver and gold,
hanging them on chains.
She smiles at their craftsmanship,
then saunters down the path to the forest,
seeming to sway to her own swingy music.
With only her blue tick hound trotting beside her,
she picks wild blueberries, savoring the tart fruit
as its indigo juice runs down her fingers.
This poem was inspired by Meenakshi Raina's "Optimistic Orange". That poem is a great example of how fun it is to write about and personify a color. I encourage the rest of you to try it!
Contest: All Yours (May 5)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
5-5-21
Categories:
trotting, beauty, blue, color, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
As quiet blackness deepened
I lay awake my heart in check,
The cool night wind blew
And welcome silence grew…
_______
Unanticipated music exploded
Roused me from bed rest,
I tiptoed to its source:
Dark sounds from downstairs,
Nearer, higher, and louder
Till it reached the hallway.
He grasped my hand,
Whirled it to turn me twice,
Held me close, went on trotting steps
Slow, quick, quick; slow, quick, quick;
Slow, slow, quick, quick...
He never gets tired, he liked the dance.
He led; I followed - his greatest joy;
In perfect timing to his bidding,
I swayed wherever he flung me,
His steps were full of variation –
He liked it that way;
While I only had one reaction –
Receive his urgings.
Perfect dance he'd always say because
It is with such ease when partner is open
That controlled movement is played.
Ungraceful dance I never liked,
But all this time it kept me alive:
His music and diverse steps I sought
And to it I humbly swayed.
Tonight I let him led again,
Just like the other days and nights.
The darkness of the night was strained,
It was only the curtains that were swaying,
To the night breeze with grace,
Stark of light peeped out from the room,
My hands and feet went frozen like ice,
I heard a different tune within, sad, weary,
But slowly roused with excitement
And anger underneath... Heated me up
Ablaze, my eyes red-stained -
He held me closer to him, and I -
Pulled myself too tight to him
He was pleased I saw it in his sated eyes
As I meekly submitted… for the last time.
We did slow, quick, quick steps for a two
Or more and then he let me go; I trotted
Far away from him then back to him
Without his behest, and out of rhythm
His steps were outside our dance floor…
Down the stairs...In open position he lay there,
In his face I saw his dance - the macabre
dance - I never liked at all. His eyes dazed –
He had his final dance with me after all.
_____
The night was cold, yet I felt warm, and the music gone,
The curtains stopped swaying at the night winds’ prodding.
-maria
8/11/14
Categories:
trotting, abuse, dance, dark, discrimination,
Form:
Free verse
deprived of a father to tell her that her skirts to small
she wore it to hug her hips and rise with every sway in her walk
her mother, another statistic of having babies to young,
was to whipped in her dip trying to be hip so she cheered her poor child on
she's dying to survive in a broken home
daddy not around to watch her spend a penny and mamas hardly home
she's dying to survive and she's put her school on hold
she's another undereducated black child with no priorities or goals
she careers soliciting her body, making it hobby to walk up and down blocks
waiting for the right brotha she can sweet talk and pick pocket
at the honk of his horn, she stops hot trotting
hopped in his car and found a quiet spot for lip locking
her hand rises up his leg, she feels for his man
he nods giving her consent
she prices her body for those new Jordan and dolce & gabbani
she'd rather rock the latest fashions then to feed her starving body
she's hopelessly devoted to being the hottest at the parties
she's dying to survive wanting attention to feel the space neglected by another
who makes alcohol a hobby
she's dying to survive rich living is her poverty
she's deaf to her inner voice that yells to her it's wrong
she confides in bad associates who cheer her on
she doesn't know this is how she's dying
she's dying to survive
Categories:
trotting, daughter, sad, sorry, sympathy,
Form:
Narrative
The Little Dog ( Scotty )
I’m only a small female
Little legs you see
The other two are huge
Males big pawed and hairy
Great tongues lolling
But they protect me
They are nice to me
I’m only small
The human is a giant !
If I look straight ahead
I can only see the shins
And while the other two are off
Galloping and romping
I am trotting behind
Little legs you see
But the human
He waits for me
I think the human is male
He must be
As I feel so drawn to it
And its kind hands
And kind eyes
He must be male
I am female
I know these things
I love to go out walking
The human he takes us all
All three !
I have to skip over boulders
Which to them are just pebbles
And sometimes all of them
Have to wait for me patiently
Little legs with little paws you see
I love them all
Especially the human
And especially when he feeds me
Even more when he tickles my tummy
Do you know he built a little house for me
Just for me
I curl up on pillows at night
Nice warm and cozy
So because I love him
And even though I am rather small
I growl and bark
When he needs protecting
And I can see him smiling
So I know I am being a good girl
The human has a “ H U G E ” kennel
So big a dog could get lost in
And when he returns from being gone
He always lets us in
But never up those little floors
Which go to the place he uses for sleeping
Never mind
I am content
Like the other two
To curl on the soft fluffy bit of the floor
And wait dozing
Occasionally sniffing about
The place food is kept in
Till the time comes
For us all to go out walking
And then I can barely contain myself
In jumps and circles
While the other two are whimpering and whining
Time for them to go off running, snuffling and playing
While behind I follow
Steadily trotting
Little legs you see
But the human
He waits for me
Categories:
trotting, funny, petsdog, dog, love,
Form:
Free verse
I am moving in and out of these animated lies,
Silver linings now sagging shadows
Burning desires now dimming coals
How did I ever become so fixated
On such unreliable light?
It is the demon of doubt that reigns tonight
It’s got all the strings to the puppetry
Raising its arms to smite all joy
Condemning our souls to dull life’s shine
Where are you now,
My swelling source of hope?
Why do your eyes wander
Where danger canters?
Trotting on soils dried by the sun
My reason for living
Now my reason for moaning
Its dragging me by the hair now
Telling me to take refuge on its stage
So it can play us over and over
Succumbing to its pathetic goals
To its putrefying plans
All I ever wanted was a place I can feel
A place I can feel
At home
I don’t know how that feels
As I seek all these thrills
I still don’t know how that feels
Categories:
trotting, absence, anxiety, beauty, betrayal,
Form:
Free verse
WIPEOUT
You cannot imagine us today as we were -
Almost simply a vestigial memory; but once
We were numberless and roamed the landscape freely,
Harmless and beautiful creatures, each graceful,
But most impressive in herds of ten thousand,
Grazing the short grass plains, following the seasons.
In winter moving south, returning in spring:
Shoals of us swimming the mighty rivers,
Herds of us trotting to the high pastures in late summer,
Flights of us in the early morning mists of the
Towering fortress mountains which sheltered our beauty
From all enemies. For millennia we lived in peace;
But the hunters came and took one of us as a trial; then another.
Then they took us in our thousands, for our skins, for our horns,
Until only a few remained, and were herded into one tight valley
With no escape. One by one the weapons of the hunters
Cut us down till only Bighorn, the last of our race, was left standing.
The chief hunter took careful aim and unleashed his weapon :
Bighorn fell dead and with him died the race of the unicorn.
Categories:
trotting, animals
Form:
Free verse
Walking away from someone you love
Trotting the path of friend
if I had to do it all over
I’m certain I’d do it again
Walking away from someone you love
not something I wanted to do
but something I knew I must
my hearts still in love
but it’s my mind I had to trust
Walking away from someone you love
the memories…laughter… and tears
letting these things go
is what I most feared
oh, how I pray my heart will heal
Walking away from someone you love
looking forward to a future
unsure of what will be there
I opened the door of uncertainty
stepped onto roads unclear
my destination’s still unknown
only hope to land in love and care
Lay
Categories:
trotting, angst, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
"Pets on Parade"
on Christmas Eve two kitty cats were sleeping
as Santa Claus climbed down the chimney creeping
Excalibur started to purr
Gabriel raised his black fur
poor Santa was startled and began weeping.
while Santa was chased by playful felines
trotting toward them a band of hungry canines
sweet Venus the white Wstie
was growing quite testy
for commotion interrupted her night sublime.
Thor and Thunder twin midnight blue great danes
frolicked in fun as Santa reached for red candy canes
they took giant licks
opened Santa's bag of tricks
as Raider the Shepherd smeared frosty windowpanes.
pretty pets on parade on Christmas Eve
had a jolly good time you best believe
sharing cookies and milk
with the Moon smooth as silk
and Santa was so happy to leave.
*For SKAT'S Calling All Pet Poems ..
Categories:
trotting, funny, christmas, christmas,
Form:
Limerick
Resting
Clouds above the
sea. Trotting white horses
with white knights. Make a white wall to
Defend
Defend!
Against the black
sea storm of Black horses
And knights, who march on the white wall
Slowly
Surly
I see
Clouds floating at
sea. The sun out, a storm
coming. But I believe in a
Battle
Categories:
trotting, nature,
Form:
Cinquain