Horse Poems | Examples of Horse Poetry

Desire overcomes my fear I ride to her through the night Night’s coldness upon my face Nothing can stop me ...

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I open the oven door to a blast of heat and hot bread bulging out of a high tin, brown, crusty and ready to be taken out. That smell wafts across seventy years to when I can remember bread being delivered in a horse and cart. Carrying a big wicker basket full of hot bread, the baker would run house to house whilst...

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18th April 1775 on the strong big-boned mare 'Brown Beauty' may have been her name borrowed from John Larkin a very good horse of Narragansett Pacer fame a copper-bottomed silversmith Son of Liberty Patriot and Boston-born riding with Prescott and Dawes toward Lexington then Concord minutemen in advance to warn of the British Army's actions was intercepted in Lincoln but doing his bit the man...

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Again the dreams, each dark cold night, of a white horse, oh sweet delight; he turns to me, waiting it seems, each dark cold night, again the dreams. The snow falls, each flake filigree, waiting it seems, he turns to me; a small bird sings, with sad birdcalls, each flake filigree, the snow falls. Oh ... be still, I ask my heartstrings, with...

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there he stood as if a dream come true my little pony AP: 1st place 2025...

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The King of Greece went on a blind date The lady thought he wasn’t so great So, he went back to his horse ...

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Jezebel the racehorse with wolves she was found To run in the daytime by moonlight she howled Her stable was cave like her food freshly killed Smart jockeys won’t ride her no matter how skilled In May was The Derby with roses askew As trainers and grooms stood in fear at high noon She had to be victor or hell would arrive With Jezebel eating the winner — alive (Rhymes From The Nursery: July, 2025) ...

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Matsuo Basho: English translations of haiku about summer, life, sun, sunshine, sunlight, melons, willows, rain, rivers, hats, shade, sad, sadness. Such coolness when shouldered: the summer’s first melon. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch A wicker basket shields the coolness of the first melon. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Morning dew: the muddy melon exudes coolness. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Early summer...

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‘Live in the moment’ they say but it's hard on a winter's afternoon, inside, warm in a comfortable chair when the mind drifts, wanders off to find a park somewhere at the end of a childhood street. Dragonflies patrolling the hot, pine scented air and sunk in the shade, an abandoned stable thick in spider webs and behind a half door, a long,...

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There was a young Lady who followed a Prince, then became a Princess when she kissed a frog, I don't know why — perhaps she's Di. This same young Lady married the dog, not a hog to marry a dog, she married the frog to catch a King, I don't know why — perhaps she'll die. There was a young frog who...

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appaloosa horse mottled skin and striped hooves ~ stunning specimen AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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I’ve ridden long ’cross windswept land, Seen men lie with a shake of hand. Smiles can fool, and words can bend— But a horse stays honest ‘til the end. People come with masks and games, Talk in riddles, shift the blame. But a mustang don’t play make-believe— He gives what’s real, not what you need. A horse don’t gossip, scheme, or plot, He don’t...

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Amazing Grace how sweet the sound Harmony of Heaven Spiritual tact A Soul rose and soared far beyond the eyes to see Beyond loving hearts Pearly Gates a wait Accompanied by a Driver, White Horse and Carriage Pure and Secrete Onward to everlasting life Every horse Gallup establishing every step walked on Earth The pain and anguished confronted This was Ms. Evans hour to shine among The...

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I met ANGIE in a bar where grief drank quiet, where HONKY TONK WOMEN spilled perfume and regret. She moved like WILD HORSES with nowhere left to run— said, “I’m safer UNDER MY THUMB than out in the open.” She kissed like a dare and left like smoke. On RUBY TUESDAY, she vanished into rain, murmuring, “YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT...

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Oh, my little angel, looking into your eyes wasn’t easy as you always had them closed, Happy and peaceful as you enjoyed your afternoon doze, I wonder as I wander through this busy world, Why do my arms yearn to spin you around in a dancing twirl? As I recall the voices of you and your friends from the birthday...

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