Long Coronet Poems
Long Coronet Poems. Below are the most popular long Coronet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coronet poems by poem length and keyword.
The Anatomy of a Horse (written for children)
Horse's feet have a hoof, the hard part which he can pound,
back of this is his frog, bottom part that stays off the ground.
Between his hoof and his leg is a coronet, not like a crown
it blends into the pastern the start of his leg, now don’t frown.
Next is his fetlock, sort of an ankle, not a real lock.
Horse's rear ankle turns backwards and that it is called his hock.
His fetlock has a callous called an ergot, can you see?
Then comes his harmless cannon, just below his hock or knee.
On the front leg, it's a knee between forearm and cannon
His hind leg has a hock which joins gaskin to his cannon.
His elbow in the front and his stifle in the back, no fibs,
connect his upper legs to his barrel which is our horse's ribs.
Topside of the barrel, where a rider sits, twixt tail and head,
highest part of horse's rump is called a croup instead.
The dock is the soft part from which grows his tail, what the heck;
above his high shoulders are withers, right beneath his neck.
Behind his ears is a part called his poll, close to his brain?
From his poll, hair makes a forelock, back down his neck, a mane.
We’ve finally reached his head and the last part, called his muzzle,
his jaw, his nose and mouth. A horse can be quite a puzzle.
written October 28, 2016 for Shadow's contest, Horses
Clans, Ilks and Tartans
Woven into threads of red and black,
Girded by grids of white,
Distant plaintive bagpipe memories
Of sunset over Kilmaurs –
A crest that bears a unicorn
Touches royal roots
As a poet’s tribute to a patron lost
Watches neighbors Campbell and Montgomerie
Then looks out on the seas from tidal lands
Of Ayrshire in flings and reels with swirling kilts
When explorer’s feet recall on new world shores
The mew of seagulls soaring –
Politicians, engineers and entrepreneurs -
Over Fork Over – Cunningham, a clan of auld.
Blocks of green and wine
Stripped with blue
Look back into the heather
Covering highland hills of country dances
Where spring wanders in hunting kilts
Beneath clear cerulean heavens,
Boldly enduring;
A crest that bears a coronet
Of storied noble and knight
Whose melancholy legend
Whispers in glens and gloaming
Of standard bearers for a king
Watched by Ogilvy and Stewart
Lindsay, a clan of auld.
Like sunlight bouncing off of autumn leaves
In crimson, golden amber, umber greening hues -
A sword dance of squares and lines in twirling kilts -
Near the sparkling waters of Loch Lomond;
Clan neighbor Graham and cousins MacCammon
See the crest adorned by a coronet
Prize of battle;
The wind remembers
Tiny windswept island Clarinch -
A battle cry of Clar Innes -
Campaigns of kings and exiled queens –
Chieftain’s seat sees a president and prospector -
Hence the brighter honor – Buchanan, a clan of auld.
Cousins of the same ilk
Bear the names of families -
Of highland lands
And lowland memories -
Seaside and mountain territories -
Kilts wearing colors interwoven patterns
Born of clans with
Tartans telling legends and the stone of destiny,
Plaids dancing at the piper’s hand,
Ancient names, though maybe hidden, still live –
Cunnyngham, Lindsey and MacCammon
Of Buchanan –
In Celtic refrains like iridescent whispers
Woven through clans of auld.
This is the story of my Scottish heritage through the mottos, the tartans, the history and geographic references to the clan homes.
The first time I thought of him
His name was playing shortstop;
Too few siesta’s spent, he’s found eighteen.
Stingy Time did swiftly pass us forth,
Spinning nurture, spanning missteps,
Till foundation definition was writ soul-side.
Sparkling child, Number One,
All expectations overthrown
Set the mold against the measure
No one can meet, nor treasure find,
To manifest such precious boy,
Announcer of next family tone.
Since crawling days no motor
Stopped the quest for dinosaurs and sharks.
Pets for none, terror for most,
Hardly fodder for a lesser lad,
As he pursued magnificent fiendish friends
At intensity predicting future scope.
Relentless, that full pursuit, the intrepid ‘tween
Dog-chased antiquities' cold blooded beasts
And much maligned circling jaws of wet death.
High School contributed a Docent step,
To hear, close beside, bold lion roar at feeding time.
No tremble there, nor sweating palm, just awe-filled chill
Affirming joy in long sought thrills
Replaced with focused urgent yearning,
Bent to learn to read the fearful roar as script
Acknowledging coexistent travels
‘round stale Earth’s ailing wonder grounds,
Emulating lost garden’s destiny Divine.
And so, forthwith, traveling north to
Lumberjack U. to accelerate in craft,
Prized manhood horizon near at hand,
We’ll follow unabatedly our rising squire
As, pursing lip to coronet, coaxing contemplative calm,
He envisages trumpeting Eden’s second dawn.
Abreast in tank top
Seeds deflower battle myths
Red lace lingerie
Under shadow of turret
Flowing combat above doubt
Garland of poppies
Sword unsheathed for wild conquest
Guns orange roses
Heavy metal for comfort
White flag intimate cover
Make love and not war
Coronet for a bouquet
Tiara of peace
Sweet surrender in motion
Wreaths for a renegade cause
18th February 2020
Contest Let the Pens Flow Tanka Poetry
Sponsored by Jenish Somadas
Syllables checked howmanysyllable.com
Traditionally a tanka does not have a title, but I have to give one to submit the
poem. I hope that Exposure enhances more than it may distract.
My life seems to last forever now that I’ve start aging
The sudden onset aches and pains start engaging
My home is in a theme park petting zoo where other animals live and rest
Each day zoo attendants feed, water, and groom us to look our best for our guests
These little creatures called Children come into the petting zoo
With the sounds of ooohs, aaahs of surprise as they walk through
Sheep, goats, rabbits, to feed and interact physically with safety
Some of these little creatures try to chase me, some of us get shaky
A tall creature with a long mane and forelock yells, “Wait a minute baby!”
Is this tall creature going to save me?
A young pony, a true friend is 7 hands at the wither not as tall as me
Wearing a blanket and saddle for a rider to sit, and bridle to guide in safety
Zoo attendants teach the proper ways to handle animals
while brushing my forelock, poll, croup, and withers
They lift my gaskin the area behind my leg between the stifle and hock pointing to my fetlock explaining that is actually more like the ball of the foot on a human
Naming my coronet where it meets my hoof down to my frog; a highly elastic wedge-shaped mass on the underside of the hoof and supports both locomotion and circulation
When all is done the attendant extending a hand placing a treat close to my muzzle treating us with love and kindness, as we bubble full of admiration
10/20/2016
Horses - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton
use the following words
Muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll, croup, gaskin, frog, hoof and coronet.
I named her Chestnut, color of her coat,
and love to hold her muzzle near my cheek,
then run my hand from poll through forelock tuft
down withers over croup...such grand physique.
But now concerned about her rear leg limp;
a problem with her stifle, gaskin, hock?
Or lower...coronet band on her hoof;
perhaps a stone in frog or sprained fetlock.
Inspection of back hoof showed small heel crack
most likely due to horseshoe mal-aligned.
With pat on back, I walk her to the barn
and waste no time...a farrier must find.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Horses
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 10/30/2016
Required words to use:
muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll,
croup, gaskin, frog, hoof, coronet.
Fluffy tailed rodents chasing rings around trees
Cool air, bringing a realism with harsh new breeze
Leaves redressed in yellows, oranges, golds and reds.
Nothing but brown ugly things in my flower beds.
Autumn is here, tooting her coronet about winter.
The wood on the porch is rotten, the edge has splintered.
Jackets and sweaters are searched for, I discover my old blue.
Mittens are almost never a match, you find one, but not two.
Fall is a reminder that the world is tensing up for snow.
Frost and sleet, ice on the roads, hope you do not have far to go.
I scrunch down in my chair surrounded by fluffy fleece.
Eating warm foods like potatoes with gravy made with grease.
At the foot of the mountain lies a wide verdant plain
With rich flowing breasts tend its enchanting brethren
A cuddly care that nature does, in collaboration with men
Catered to those gallant souls, nurturing the best it can
Every morning, when sunshine unfolds its resounding grace
Charming horses in auspicious race, dock their tails, all in graze
Glorious creatures they are when viewed near and afar
Precious stone-like muzzles adorned, each shines like ritzy car
Glossy fur is prominent, from withers, poll to forelock crane
The sophisticated look they have while galloping in any range
When the sun grows brighter in the middle of the day
Cowboys with their hats and chaps shout, hurray!
They run to check their rides before they saddle with glee
Patting stifle, gaskin, hock down to fetlock ‘though they’re jerky
Thorough inspection of hoof, coronet and frog they do and peek
And see if shoes are fixed, they’re good luck charms, shown in kicks
Stallions or mares, palomino, topaz… horses in any color and kind
Riding like a roller-coaster on their withers to their croup is so fine!
How I wish I can go with those cowboys in their pony-trekking
I want to be their horsewoman as they’ll be all my prince charming.
Oct. 17, 2016 1.40pm
Copyright2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Ninth Place
Contest: Horses
Judged: 10/30/2016
Sponsor: Poet Shadow Hamilton
*Image of Lewis Milton Hankins
aloha my friend
a bevy of doves
laurels wrestle a whirlwind
fair plumes coronet
~"The Last Token"~03/22/21
weasels and foxes
snow tracks charging the blizzard
freshness soothes the wit
~"On Bullying"~12/08/22
sun setting a scene
evening stages curtain calls
a hall full of stars
~"Forever in My Heart"~09/03/22
*Narrowing the involvement of his generous enlightenment, even as much as spotlighting these chosen few, I rested upon his constant hope, that 'Their Heart Are Truly Forever'~~Aloha, Milt & Deb, my friends...
2023 January 03
*1st Place*
In Honor of Milt - An Un-contest
~~Andrea Dietrich: Judged 2023 January 16
*HMS.
Ooh...this... just an amazing grace note
recalling how I felt like an ass
and wanna toot 'bout me getting steered
(as a heavy metal kid Rocker)
toward befriending a brass
see gutsy, horny,
and MainLine snooty upper class
action button down
(grace fully slick as vaseline), airily glinting
forcibly hawked, laundered, and pawned
by the instrumental
Mister Deangelo O'Donnell, High School
(mud flapping, ornery hearing,
and quid juicing Ska Welch ching)
music teacher oompah crass
tone deaf when aye trumpeted desire
to master the Coronet
analogous to pursing lips
blowing tightly held grass
blade between two abetted,
cinched fastened opposable thumbs,
which tooting a supposed aural aphrodisiac
to attract a zaftig well proportioned lass
(ideally shaped like a miniature Tuba)
with one steel funnel like mouthy mass
that probably explains, how such a gal
could easily emulate
facial pucker earning pass
to illustrious honorable first chair
and blasts gratitude akin
as Gabriel would declare
heavenly expressions conducting
angels thru atmospheric ether
alighting on mortal ushering melody
with rites of harkening
springtime Renaissance Faire
solar rays golden raiment
splays rainbow fragments off
beveled, bellowed, and
bedecked polished flare
audiological sound waves trick
saw toothed reflected
silhouetted orchestral shadows
to dance as conductor's baton gear
musicians horns ensemble
epochal feast to hear.