Farm Horse Poems - Poems about Farm Horse

To most city slickers I suppose it’s a little hard for them to tell the difference between a cowboy and just a plain farmer. in the dell Well one uses a horse and a rope the other drives a tractor and plow One smells like a fancy pickup truck The other like the ass of a cow...

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Blue skies above, Green grass below. Hot springs still, Cool waters flow. Wind blows soft, Trees stand tall. Clouds drift by, Warm rains fall. Corn stalks sway, Bull frogs croak. Squirrels take shelter, Wheat fields soak. Sun peeks through, Clover smells sweet. Creek beds swell, Milk cows eat. Red petals bask, Horses roam free. Dogs bark loud, Rabbits will flee. Birds take flight, Day moves past. Full moon rises, Dark shadows cast. Distant stars twinkle, Night-time ends. Amber shade hovers, New dawn...

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Soon, I’ll be going to the county fair Late in August, it makes its return I’ll be showing my prize-winning mare. Being an exhibitor, I don’t pay a fare, Which, of course, is of no great concern Soon I’ll be going to the county fair. I’ll be showing her with plenty of flair So, the judges will be able to discern, I’ll be...

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Mardi was at the Darby; Yet he was not invited to the party; Very upset at what he could not get; He went over to the teller to make a bet. “Mardi, you came to the Darby,” the teller did say; Which made him reply without a lie; “I want to see what those horses will pay.” “Well...

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I count my strides Since I know how to ride The idea is to figure out a problem And if I do it with grace, I can honestly say I got em. With every fence I take I really hope I can make Since a rail goes down Everybody in the arena will have a...

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The cottonwood fluff blankets the ground In a thick snowy white layer, As the gentle breeze whispers Through the emerald green foliage. The fragrance of mowed sun dried hay up ahead, As the farmer’s toys mulch it and create neat long rows, Then numerous identical clones of perfect rectangles Lying one after the other, same distance apart. In the coral, the chocolate...

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TONY THE PONY’S LITTLE PRINCESS PART TWO Two weeks ago, we got a very excited call From our friends on the farm, Tony’s sexy young lady, Shady, Had given birth to a small Beautiful baby pony, She was named Charm! Over the following week they sent Us many a Whats App, with photos galore, My heart sung, this longed for event Had finally come,...

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Our friends invited us to their farm, And were introduced to Tony Their pony, who had delectable charm, On his forehead was a star, Which I noticed from afar, He had already spotted spotted me, From way beyond the cedar tree. He stole my heart, Right from the start, He seemed incredibly tame, Wanting to play a game, I was advised not to...

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And the Rest is...Restful/Restless tonight At last, he sleeps beneath the stars and, for once, beneath the grass. tonight at last, she sleeps beneath the stars and for once, above her horse. tonight One sleeps peacefully one, fitfully. One free, one free of free. tonight Both sleep. tomorrow One rises, one sleeps a mother, her horse. tonight One dreams of tomorrow. tonight One dreams of yesterdays....

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I'm here tonight to stand in the ache. The ache of hollow, the empty of the not simply empty; rather, the empty of the recently full. The silent ache of missingness, of quiet. Before the ghosts have risen, before the memorial stones are set. Before the cards arrive. Before the flowers are vased to wilt. I'm here tonight to stand in the ache. Of what so recently had been. Of who...

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Once there was a country boy called Chester, he came from the rural Appalachians; got himself a farming job not far from a big city, he was unsophisticated and old fashioned. He had a pleasant twang that made people laugh, ...

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The unexpected heavy thud of netted hay on solid wood. My horses snort and sigh and chew, as glistening cobwebs sway with dew. There is comfort in their rhythmic chomp, on seeing me they grunt and stomp. Stamping an insistent need for feed, all eyes upon me fixed by greed. I mix the chaff, the beet, the grain, as stable gates...

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The rain didn't fall last night so much as it was thrown. The wind didn't blow last night so much as it was whipped. And a whip is a thing which lacerates, it cuts. The day after was the last day and the next days will be filled with no more and no longer until the next days outnumber the here-with-us days and the days after those days will pile on,...

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Along a country a dusty country road There is a lot to explore I see a large house on the field Beside the home was a vegetable field With a huge scarecrow at watch To chase away all the birds On the other side -...

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fable Farmer Brown never works on Sunday, for Sunday is special and they go to church. Two horses in his barn know of kindness for of kindness, the Browns talk a lot. Each Sunday one of their two horses, one horse drives their wagon to church. The kids are nice kids, Mrs. Brown is joyful, too joyful and compassionate like...

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