Gallops Poems | Examples

Hyena too Squirrely for his Siblings

Most hyenas are not predictable but Squirrely was the weirdest of all
So strange, he was thrown out of the pack when he was a cub
He’s just so unusually and blatantly odd, said his sister, Maul
Squirrely is beyond the realm of fantasy said his brother Chub

They did not like his smile and his laugh bordered on the insane.
He gallops around like a goat, a donkey, a llama and a horse
He had hair so messy, it was brushy too like a lion’s mane
His family did not like him, but his grandma took him in of course.

Squirrely had a marvelous life with his loving Gran.
Until she died and went to the promised land.

Kentucky Mustang

October gallops in as stolid as a gray mare,
a blunt wind snorts furiously through autumnal trees.
Foliage rattles, but does not fall, it clings still
to green stems.

Appalachian backwoods have tough roots,
shod as they are into an earth salted
with a dark gritty ore.

Bears are foraging and reaping,
their black silky pelts clamber over gusting winds
to reach the furthest fruits
before first snows overburden stoic pines.

Today the sky is unharnessed
and racing at full tilt
It whips my raw lips like a wet mane,
it rears up to stamp down upon its own
animated onslaught.

I adjust my rucksack and reshoulder a shotgun
grin, eyes watering
caught under the stampeding gale,
buffeted now by its muscular flanks.

I need to bridle this striding wind,
to halter its headlong charge,
or better yet just surrender -
turn my back on it,

let it ride me 
as we leap down from the hilltops
whooping it up like cowboys.

Pie-in-the-sky-Pin-a-tail-on-a-donkey

Democrats like Damocles Sword's imminent jeopardized positions of power hail her rise,
Decades of teamsters support, NO, Harris-Demos few endorsed her in the public's eyes,
Democrats today are like the Dixiecrats of Dewey's days are playing old-school, sex-race cards,
Repubs set in their ways, and Demos are bendable like what's his face got her on second base, charades.
He needed to win, expendable, same cards played, sex-(win over for the women voters) it is a given for the race.
D for Demos who are Distancing from Drunkards--her hidden card takes centerstage--loses face.
First line expounded of my original Pie-in-the-sky, and
the rest was a shot in the dark, played with dance cards.

*She can seek help if she don't slur her words on camera that she is, 
being tailed., f0x learned from Di' lawsuit--pass the buck.

Repubs are no angels in this with Trumy-Dumpy on a ticket and not a wall, the third possible gallops in time with withdrawals TBA.

Wind

It creeps around the corners	
It moans about the eaves		
A rapid fork of lightning		
Sparks beyond the trees		
My pulse gallops skyward		
As a sudden fear sets in		
The birds have ceased their chirping	
Will this madness never end?	
Oh, it makes my blood run cold	
To hear the gusting squall		
It creeps around the corners	
And sprints halfway down the hall	
Make it stop, make it stop,	
I can’t bear it anymore			
As a blast so strong			
Stabs at my very core			
Then morning dawns at last	
And the sun peeks out			
My breath again resumes		
Going in, going out
Until the restless night
Once more comes to call
Monstrous Zephyr from the West
Endlessly casts its pall

Inspiration

My horse sense I fancy,
even though I’m not fully perfect I remain,
love worthy.

Spirit gutsy,
gallops driven in my own lane,
I’m me.

Core stirred,
mental membrane
spurred.

My horse sense I fancy,
gallops driven in my own lane,
spurred.

two missing cowboys

two missing cowboys
wallets and cell phones in their trucks
their oldest friend gallops to the hills
to pray for his best friends
hoping they will return safely
with stories

a man called horse

a man with legs like a tree

gallops like nonsense set free

he flips and he flops

and high over tops

a barn full of revelry.

Waiting

There is fake blood on congressional walls,
the outraged rage on
though they are all unclear
about whatever.

Beyond our shores
apocalyptic war gallops on four horses.
A river of blood flows to the sea.

Are there marmalade sandwiches for tea
or only a thinly buttered bread
and wilted cucumber?

Back from the conflict
reporters warn of storms
on the home front,

but we who kneed our knees,
to facilitate, hating to disturb
the already perturbed,

await with bated breath
for the big bang and the death
of reason forever.
00

The Lobster Hunt By Omar Rayyan Omar

Have its lobster claws times two pincered off
One way sticks of this crustacean’s underwater trap?
Eight leggedly it gallops off among arthritic, bulbous trees.
And waves its spiny tail to cover up its tracks.

Dogs have joined the spirit of the game,
Spaniels with foreheads as regally as high
As their master princess on a unicorn
And will play this pint sized monster-knight to death.

Undistracted by surrealistic fish camouflaged in dark,
Untempted by sea horses following her braid.
Never can crustacean hunts be lost
When hounds are hot upon a trail of lobster sauce.

The Moonlight Caresses You

The moonlight caresses you like a lost robe,

Surreal and luminous dancer,
Stretching like a sunrise,
Gallops out of the twilights starry dress,

A rosekissed lilly remains dreaming,
In the warm blankets of your hair,

Darling lady,
Alone in the crowd,
Within the festive lights,
Tiara of the sublime nights,

The sweet waves of the shore,
Honeys gently within your soul,
With the solemn and vibrant hymns,
Of nightingales,

Wanderlust gypsies, autumn mango,
Caressing so deep in an exotic circle,
Their sighs with its rain and sun,
Sway into cherished flowers,
Dancing through the mists
Reynaldo Casison

She Must of Been An Unicorn

She must of been,
A unicorn,
The way her unique,
Beauty,
Romantically,
Gallops,
And blows your mind,
With its enchanted,
 exotic, and ethereal,
Sweetness,
And kisses,
Your drowsy gaze,
With dreamy stars
Reynaldo Casison

Lady In a Purple Dress

She has caressed the grace of twilight,
beauty, in the fine fibers of a purple dress,

And I have felt in a gaze,
Its gregarious sanctities,
A rose moon blush,
upon a mango tree and garden,

A kiss of moon,
And,
A siesta of stars dreams,
Through her dark sweet hair,

A steeple chimes in the skys starry eyes,
As the hem of her purple dress sways,
Like flirting seagulls,
Upon sun warmth piers,
And sandy beaches,

What is the shores love to you,
How do their wings fly,
What vibrancy is her friends tears,
Why is the moon so high,
When one feels low,
Desiring to blissfully glow,

Always her beauty sighs,
And gallops,
Through midnight hymns,
for vibrant and lost sunrises
Reynaldo Casison

Gypsy Skirt Upon Her Exotic Hips

Gypsy skirt,
Upon her exotic hips,
That embraces,
Her painterly,
silhouette,
To carefreely flow,
In the winds of her salsa,
Beauty,,
And caress her rhythms,
From firm sunset gallops,
to sweet repose,

From what shore,
Did she gather your flowers,
Surreal honey,

Her hips are so comfy,
and cozy,
In your loving fibers,
And adept garden waves,
As her hem dreams,
Its flowers,
To dance with her,
Crescendos,
And gaze of her sighs,
Gypsy skirt,
upon her exotic hips,
And dancer thighs,
And the margarita moon dips,
With your duet,
With her honey hair,
Sweet and kind,
As salsa evenings
Reynaldo Casison

Ti Quero

A dashing rogue with charisma and charm,
      With the grace of a cat, he gallops and sweeps me into his arms.
      With the wind at our backs, we ride across the moonlit night.
       Wild, reckless and free, 
       But in his arms it felt so right.
       Moments that seemed to be an eternity,
       Only to have it come to an end and you place me back to reality.
       I wondered when we’d meet again,
       I welcome the night like a long lost friend.
       Wishing and  hoping you would return again,
       And we would ride into the moonlight, only this time it would not end.
       So take me with you to your reality,
       And let me  spend my life with you for eternity.

Keeping Up the Pace

Life is like a galloping horse,
Flying around a track
Faster and faster, he gallops
Too fast to look back

His need to win is crucial,
He cannot afford to lose
If he could communicate
He would refuse

One day when hurtling
Around this long race track
The jockey pushed him too far
And cracked his whip
On the horses back

Faster screamed the jockey
It looks like we might win,
He cracked the whip again
That broke the poor horse's skin

The crowd were all yelling,
Egging the jockey on
Hoping he's a winner
And they'll be rich before too long.

The horse was exhausted,
He had suffered enough
The winning post was very near
But the race had been tough

The rider was feeling jubilant,
He was sure he was going to win
The onlookers thought so too,
Cheering louder, making such a din.

The horse was breathing heavily,
His heart was beating fast.
Sweat was pouring off him,
As the other horses passed

One by one, they passed him,
He was no longer in the race
He died peacefully later in his stable
As he could no longer keep up the pace.

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