Best White Horse Poems


White Horse Hill

Before  the Roman legions carved a road
This stallion coursed across the chalk ridge brow
Unharnessed, free or by a king bestrode
Like wave traversing grassland free of plough
It still pursues its quest yet even now


Note: This is the oldest of the many white horses carved into chalk hillsides across southern England. It has been dated to The Bronze or Iron ages. (Pre-Roman occupation)

White Horse On the Vale

There is a white horse on the vale,
  where it oft go and play,
  and eat heaven honey a plenty 
  through its sleepless hallowed gate;
  the ponies watch and prance
  and dance, and never wander afar,
  for they see the good of it,
  when they answer my beckoned call
  
I feel from a home inside me,
  a place for love and holly,
  (this very white horse I dreamt)
  was heavenly sent ---
  and for all, this white horse doth come,
  from the bosom of God,
  with every soul's name etched on its sides;
  and when I awoke it was all a dream,
  but was it a dream? ---
  I asked myself at last,
  shall an experience of any kind be fiction,
  in its marrow and left impression---
  be unworthy of reality? 

I do not know for absolutes sake ---
  claim this white horse 'exists'
  but it is pleasing more perhaps,
  to dream it real,
  for this waking world ---
  with its sometimes infinite despair
  (makes far less sense)
                   ~~~
There is a white horse on the vale,
  and when I called it came...
  and he helped me up,
  and rode me from harm's way;
  that's why the ponies watch and prance
  and dance, 
  and see the good of it...









****A dream within a dream I had****

White Horse

White horse
By Michelle Morris
27/12/2022

You always wanted 
A knight on a white steed
You always hoped that he'd 
Sweep you off your feet

But, then you became wiser
You realised your own strength
You didn't need a hero
You'd be your own instead

That image of the white horse
With a strong warrior mounted high
It is a reminder for both genders
That we have dreams to which we aspire

For men long to be heroes too
They want to feel strong and sure
They want their partner to accept them
For all the good things that they are

It doesn't really matter
How we learn our roles
It doesn't even matter
What beliefs in hearts were sown

What truly matters
Is that we achieve balance within
That we realise that we are strong
But can be vulnerable at times

Relationships don't need to be
About power and control
They should be about friendship
Compatibility and honour

Sprinkle in love and passion
Kindness and good sense
Wildness and freedom
A chance to be yourself

Whatever works for you
It's important to feel loved
To feel that you're supported
For who you truly are

May you be your own hero
May you find a love that's noble 
May you experience enchantment 
Like a white horse from Heaven's stable 

© Michelle Morris, 2022


The White Horse In My Dreams

The horse in my mind, gallops away,
His hooves, beat inside my skull, 
Like the waves, that pound, upon our strong hull
I hold tight, but the vision won’t stay

I see him now, that mighty white stallion
Galloping freely, upon the wet shore
The sound of his hooves, makes me need him the more
An escape from this old pale galleon

And so at last, we row to the beach
I have travelled so far for this dream
Prancing majestically, his eagerness shows
yet still nervous, he stays out of reach
Slowly he paces toward me, snorting a cloud of steam
I know now my journey is over, as he gently nuzzles my nose




I have selected the theme of 'Horses'
Written by        : Nick Bagnall
For contest by  : Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Contest Name  : Horses or Snowflakes or Horses and Snowflakes
Awarded          : Tenth Place

Premium Member On a Dazzling White Horse

Our exquisite Queen of passion
Rides on a dazzling white horse
Within her hand she wields a pen
Describing adventures of course

She takes us to many places
So our own psyches we can explore
To the thoughts of former lovers
Or through imaginary doors

Within her realm she is fearless
A true warrior of the mind
Some say the passion whisperer
She can give color to the blind

The fountain of her thoughts endless
With her we travel back in time
To former days of gallantry  
As we engage in every line

Mesmerized by her artistry
As we follow her where she goes
Eileen's sexy has no limits
Ooh la la licious as it flows

Dedicated to Eileen, our queen of passion.

Upon a Pale White Horse

A man in his field,
Whose heart rumbles fast,
To fear he shall yield,
The echoes of his past,

Of a life he stole,
The innocence he killed,
Deep in his soul,
No longer concealed.

As a sound of thunder,
 Vibrates the ground,
He’s lost in wonder,
At this mysterious sound.

But as the thunder nears,
He knows its course,
Now a vision he hears,
That robed figure upon a pale white horse.

Flowing in the wind,
Is this vision of Death,
Who’s face bears no skin,
And breaths not a breath.

In it’s bony hand,
It wields a scythe,
This soul forever dammed,
Has come for a life.

Grasping a book,
That reads one name,
And the life he took,
Bearing the finger of blame.


It is Death who’s come,
For that lost soul,
It can’t be undone,
There is only one goal.

He tries to hide,
But cannot escape,
Though the fields are wide,
They match his fate,

Death now arrives,
At his final dwelling,
Watching the cries,
Of his silent yelling,

It takes the life,
Of a soul evil tainted,
With that razor scythe,
 Now maroon painted.

Upon the horse he’s tossed,
Without screams or kicks,
Now Death carries him off,
To the river of Styx.

So when thunder does fall,
With that figure you see,
Run or stand tall,
You still can’t flee.

In time it resides,
Feeling no remorse,
It is Death who rides,
Upon the pale white horse.


Drover, Ride Your White Horse

Drover, ride your white horse...ride it with grit 
on the sun-scorched prairies 
of the Mississippi Valley:
where no tree is found in a shady spot,
but plenty of wild daisies 
and pink roses distract you constantly!

Winter came with snow and haze,
and the buffalos couldn't graze;
now, in the open prairie, they do
and aren't startled by your gallops or
fear being chased and hunted by two
or three lasso-throwing cowboys for
their gorgeous hides to make a fortune...
hear them whistling a Kenny Roger's tune!

Drover, ride your white horse...ride it with grit
through the rich farmlands burning,
until you'll get hungry, thirsty and tired;
sit down by the Mississipi River and unwind,  
observe the clearest water flowing
as Mark Twin did while he was writing!
Drover, ride the white horse, ride it with grit...
while thinking how far is your home,
how lonely is your wife holding Jerome! 



Copyright ( c ) 2018 by Andrew Crisci

Premium Member There Stood a Great White Horse

I looked, behold, there stood a great white horse;
Its rider had a lethal, silent bow.
And on his head, a crown, rough-hewn and coarse,
And there he went, a-conquering his foe.

And lo, there came another horse, bright red;
Its rider reaped the peace and sowed discord
So great that people slew each other dead,
And in his hand, a perilous great sword.

A stallion, black like the night, then strode;
The rider’s hand gripped scales, ‘twas heard a voice:
“The cost of wheat and barley shall explode;
Harm not the finest oils and wines of choice!”

Alas, a proud horse, pale and bearing Death,
With Hades lurking close behind in tow,
Brought famine, war and pestilence, snatched breath,
And left a wake of desolation, woe.

(from Revelation 6)
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.

On White Horse Hill

Alone I stand, the blasted thorn,
Devoid of leaves and all forlorn,
A sentinel for countless years,
Of storms and gales I have no fears.

Ignored by man and sheep and rook
Into the vale I longing, look,
O’er Uffington I survey, long,
As through my twigs a mournful song
Is whispered by the Western wind.
Against the slope I’m firmly pinned,
In ancient chalk my roots are bound
In sight, below, of dragon’s mound.

Unchanging down the ages, I,
Stark silhouette against the sky
And visitors espy me still
Abandoned here, on White Horse Hill.
© Mike Jones  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The White Horse

If you’re looking for some good, clean fun
Let me tell what this white horse has done
Seen it with my own eyes
In a mud hole it lies
There is a clean, dirty joke  - no pun
~~~
I cleaned up and went on my first date
Coming home, felt good – it went great
Fell in a mud puddle
My date would not cuddle
I doubt if he’ll ever be my mate







Two Limericks - Let's have some Fun! Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin 
February 27, 2021

Syllable counts were checked with Howmanysyllable.com
Rhymes were checked with Rhymezone.com

Premium Member Knight On the White Horse

It seemed like a dream that he came to me
Dressed in silver armour, riding on a white steed
Coming with only love for his deed

Carrying me away on the pancing horse
To the rock castle way above the course
Ere we enter,  the golden lined way 

Touched by his presence in a special bay
Filled with refreshing waters cool and calm
Once they are swallowed sins all gone

White Horse, Mary, and Me

(Verse 1)
Out on the streets
Their drinking whiskey and wine
They got the ache in their feets
They got the ache in their spines
They got the gin and juice
They got the gum and smokes
Some got the blues
And some got the coke

(Chorus 1)
Ride the white horse, go on Ride it high
No need to come down Mary, Touch the sky
Ride the white horse, Mary, ride it high
If you come down, White Horse, get you high.

(Verse 2)
Mary, Mary, 
Last name Jane
She love you dearly, If you 
spark her flame
Breath her in, She might 
Make you cry
She gonna take you down, but
Get you high

(Chorus 2)
Mary, Mary your quite contrary
My love for you is extra-ordinary
You bring me down when white horse get me high
Mary, Mary, lets touch the sky

(Musical Bridge/Guitar Solo)

(Verse 3)
Out on the streets
we do, 
what we will
we got,
Sand in our pockets 
so we,
Take your bills
We buy,

(Chorus 3)
Booze and weed, gals and cocaine
Don't worry Mary you know your my main
Lets ride the white horse, come on lets get high
Mary, Mary, Lets touch the sky

(Musical Verse no words)

(Chorus 4)
Mary, Mary, you're extraordinary
Im addicted to you and its scary
Hello White horse, lets go for a ride
Climb aboard and we'll touch the sky

Link to song: https://youtu.be/Fz1fxsFBwtk
© Vidal Tan  Create an image from this poem.

White Horse

The White Mare 
the incoming tide made an island out of
the sand bank where I sat, king for a day,
made a crown of coarse grass
but since I only ruled over a few crabs, who
bit my finger when I shook their claws, I
renounced my crown and swam ashore.
Sanitation workers, in blue overalls and
logo, heckled me since I was not like them
and they made fun of my crown.
On an incoming wave a white mare came,
bareback I mounted and gently the horse
trotted amongst the awestruck workers

White Horse

Outside my window
Rushing and hurdling with no effort building  
I gaze at the foaming waves galloping towards the shore
no aberration to remember, no ambition it could not endorse
as no rock can ever crash the zealous white horse
no shady future to consider
no fears to make it shiver
There’s one aim, one goal
Where greater intentions never fall
to rise higher and reach the glory
to leave behind a rattling good story
Roll in, roll out
No distractions, no doubt.

7TH PLACE
For Eight Word Challenge Contest
Sponsor: Robert Haigh
words: outside, building, remember, horse, consider, future, intentions, greater

White Horse Mountain

White Horse Mountain

Teacher teacher
life or deceiver
pampas delusion
the contemplation
can a man of Christ
be antichristian
spread the light
or misinformation
take the time
look up Mathew twelve dash nine
these words are God's and now they are mine
no need to read between the lines
for they are very clear
but not all who read them can hear
call no man your father on earth
I guess that blasphemy has it's perks
holy father
holy father
they all beat feet to kiss his ring
leaders of the world line up
none of them follow me
few hold truth in hand
those who do understand
open your mind if you can
and what do you oppress
if you can't
truth
this they try and try to cover up and hide
still a few learn to see deep inside
and if you try you will find
the winds of truth blowing
within your mind
© Mark Beal  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace