Best Whinnies Poems

As dawn starts to streak across the sky
heralding in the new born day.
Feisty rooster already perched on the wall
giving forth with all his might, he crows.

Sleepy hens, ducks and geese scat for worms.
Low moos emitting from the milking parlour
mingling with the sucking sounds of machines
as...

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His
Withers quiver
With power from his hooves,
Tough thunder. He whinnies and snorts...
He flies....

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In open Nebraska, eighteen eighty-six,
lived a man named Floyd Belgard.
Only twenty years, he lived with his pa,
a ranching man named Richard.

Richard had moved out this way
about seven long years before.
After loosing his wife and dry-goods shop,
he'd given up on keeping stores.

Instead he'd found out on...

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Proud and gallant he rides in a field
The smell of lavender sprinkles the air
She knows not if the vision before her is real
He sees her sitting on an old stump
Making a wreath of white daisies
Then carefully approaches her and whinnies
Of pure heart this maiden is
He...

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such a happy treat
an apple for special friend
equine contentment

warm winter stable
happy whinnies from within
affectionate nudge

spring will soon be here
uplifting sight horse grazing
high spirits prevail



Writing Challenge
H Words 
Chosen Word Horse
Sponsored 
by: 
Constance La France 
27/02/2023





Pixabay Image by Emma_Ted...

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Busy bees, honey please, 
fuzzy golden brown seas,  
displeased feverish breeze.

I've tried so hard to keep
the bees off the three sheep,
but these bees seem to wheeze
on by the trees and tease.

Gee whiz! Don't they know where
there hive is where they share?
Don't they care birds...

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Postcard 1
by Miklós Radnóti
written August 30, 1944
translated by Michael R. Burch
 
Out of Bulgaria, the great wild roar of the artillery thunders,
resounds on the mountain ridges, rebounds, then ebbs into silence
while here men, beasts, wagons and imagination all steadily increase;
the road whinnies and bucks, neighing;...

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My grandson is running around the cul-de-sac
Riding bareback
On horseback
Yelling giddy up Jack.
Whoa! Jack.
Grandma do you have my backpack?
Can we please have a snack?
A horse head on a long stick done in soft black
And brown material whinnies when my grand-
Son gives him an apple snack.
My grandson...

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What’s that glowing unusually bright?
Alone in the deep woods at midnight.
Look! It has an illuminating horn and mane
Four graceful legs with a bushy tail.
It’s coat as soft as velvet;
It’s ash eyes, as sweet as a baby ferret.
It’s muzzle as tender as a foal’s
Shining bright like...

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My most popular poems on the Internet (III)

A number of my poems and translations have gone viral, according to Google, and some have been copied onto hundreds to thousands of web pages. That’s a lot of cutting and pasting! The poems below are based on...

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World War II Poems and Holocaust Poems - III - Miklos Radnoti

Miklos Radnoti was one of the greatest of the Jewish Holocaust poets. He died on a Nazi death march, shot to death in cold blood, and the poems below were found on his body...

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Whinny and Spit

 
When a man’s young,
the work’s hard
but it pays well
and he can feed
the wife and kids.
 
Mornings he throws 
crates off trucks,
and after lunch he
throws crates again.
But as he grows older,

and some say
ready to retire,
he stops
in mid-afternoon,
mounts his throne 

of skids, lets
his legs...

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One end of a mule is certain to reek
  Its alternative end whinnies and shrieks
    A mule may let go
    So you'd better know
  Which end will just speak ~ and which spreads its cheeks...

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Harry Finnegan loved his horse,
Not in the carnal sense of course,
Just as a valued animal friend
Loyal and faithful to the end.
You’d see them every day up town
On Harry’s milk and yoghurt round
Bringing foods of taste and class
To places others dare not pass.
There wasn’t a place...

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The squirrels are dashing here and there.
desperately filling winter larders.
They are still crazy for nuts, after all these years.

Autumn spurs the living and is a rest-home for the dying
it brings in new snow from the high hills
and turns flakes into cold raindrops.
The wind whinnies like...

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