Long Galloped Poems
Long Galloped Poems. Below are the most popular long Galloped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Galloped poems by poem length and keyword.
The shadows on the moonlit road
Belonged to ancient trees,
But then I saw a hulking form
That made my marrow freeze.
He stood well over six feet tall,
His face was long and lean,
‘Though dressed in velvet like a lord,
His voice was cold and mean.
He aimed his pistols at my breast,
With, ‘Stand and drop your knife.
Deliver all your goods, my friend,
Your money or your life.’
I knew I couldn’t hope to win,
And threw the man my purse;
But then he leapt upon his horse
And rode off with a curse.
The sounds of riders galloped by,
But none were there, I swear;
I heard a single shot ring out,
Thus adding to my scare.
The highwayman would never rest;
But all was still again;
I prayed, and, chilled by thoughts of ghosts,
Continued down the lane.
For Joyce's contest
Memory of Muriel
When the big wave crashed ashore
on the rocky side of the bay, seven white stallions, silky manes flying, galloped ashore to seek freedom in the green winter valley.
The old man's sons helped their father to swim
and he was glad
Coming home, he called his wife Muriel and told her he had been swimming with his son.
The sons were worried their mother had been dead for many years
In the valley of greenness, the stallions see
the grass turned pale
longed for the freedom of the open sea.
When a summer storm came, the stallions galloped back to the shore to join mighty swells
on the back of a horse, an old man rode
finally, he was going to meet his wife Muriel.
Memory of Muriel
When the big wave crashed ashore on the rocky side of the bay
seven white stallions, silky manes flying galloped ashore to seek
freedom in the green winter valley.
The old man's sons helped their father to swim and he was glad
Coming back home he called his wife Muriel, told her he had been swimming with his son.
The sons were worried, their mother had been dead for many years
In the valley of greenness, the stallions see the grass turn pale
longed for the freedom of the open sea.
When a summer storm came, the stallions galloped back to the shore
to join a mighty swell, on the back of a horse an old man rode finally, he was going to meet his wife Muriel.
Only my saviors childs are the this worlds capture
We sinners live to see the rapture
It was something more than a catastrophe
My conscience steadily asking me
Is the plan still to live life severe and disaster free?
My dreams are exhausted, seems temptation has reached the sky’s
Sinners become saints, attempting to figure which prophecy lies
Veins constantly bleeding, I can feel my soul leaving
Yet I’m forever breathing
The curse of Kane
No flu shots cause I’m never sneezing
Seems my misery is ever pleasing
And with the mourning after
I wonder why these children are your lords only capture
Yet we sinners live to see the rapture
Label me sexiest, homophobic, homosexuals baring arms in marriage
A third of the world is gone
Bury baby Jesus with charms in his carriage
Execution of minors
I guess there’s nothing in this life finer
Dear child I watched your mother scrub the windows of that diner
Who am I to say that you are wrong?
But who are you to weigh that child and determine if he’ll live long
Mr. President consistently stepping over hurricane victims
Misery no longer worry’s my pain, I can see it’s only a sitcom
Do you remember nine/eleven
Simply because that September, down south was your only heaven
And as you galloped with the clouds
Alqueda stood on it’s soil, it’s dust and dirt proud
But then again I’m wrong to speak out
But I guess making home is what being weak is about
A woman’s right is abortion
Perhaps it’s wrong but it’s only a portion
The tragedy’s we smile to see
The happy times are where we suffered above tiles to be
Breathing on my last breath
Leading my last steps
Of coarse the worlds gone end
But it seems my saviors childs are the worlds only capture
It was a night of restless wind and rain
Yet undeterred by cold and padlocked chain
I broke into the building on a dare
With lamp in hand I wandered, and then there
Beheld the painting, in the vaulted hall,
Which hung in shadows on the lofty wall,
A ghostly rider on his trusty steed
That galloped forward at hairtrigger speed.
I turned to go, then got a mighty scare
As lightning flashed...I saw the canvas bare!
I stayed not rooted to the ground in fear
Instead, I made an exit in top gear!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"The Haunted House" Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
Placed 4th
© 15th August 2018
This is the story of Bertie Bucket
A highway man of daring and some notoriety
Who plied his trade around Rye and Hawkhurst
In 1740 but he was not that good you see
He came from a long line of Buckets
There were ten of them in all
His parents were a steadfast couple who had ten children
Five brothers, four sisters and one I cannot recall
He started stealing from an early age
About ten or twelve I think
He stole the purse of a well know judge
Which created such a stink
He ran away to the town of Rye
Where he found work as a stable boy
And learned to ride a horse quite well
And to be a Highway man was the ploy
So in a few years, five or six or so
He started his life of criminality
With his trusty new steed Old Bess a big black mare
They became a team you see
He rode the trails from Rye to Dungeness
Robbing Travelers Coaches and the like
The problem was the authorities
Never could find out where he would strike
On one such daring escapade
Everything went wrong that could
Whilst pulling his pistol from out of his belt
It went off and Bess galloped off into the nearby wood
It only just missed from shooting his toe off
His boot was quite a mess
So off he went licking his wounds
In a state of great distress
A few days later he was back again
And tried to hold up a coach
But the coachman was not so easily scared
And Bertie was full of self reproach
But his luck ran out one fateful night
At the Tavern the old Mermaid Inn in Rye
He was captured by the local militia
He could not escape how hard he did try
He was up in court before the Judge
Whose purse he had stolen years before
So he was sentenced to Hang as soon as it could be arranged
But a gale force wind broke down the court door
He leapt from the dock and was out in a flash
Grabbed a nearby horse and galloped away with speed
Out into the darkness never to be seen again
So any would be Highwaymen take heed.
Waves pushed a torrent of power and might.
Against the tiny creature seemingly lost in the night.
With only the moon to navigate her path,
Little seahorse galloped—
Giddy up—giddy up—
Hungry suitors let her pass, tonight peace without wrath.
Hippocampus—was her genus, a clever equine design.
Upright she rocked, the shallow temperate sea brine.
With back and forth swiftness, and straight ahead scurry,
Little seahorse galloped—
Giddy up—giddy up—
Her love patiently waiting, she approached in a hurry.
Bequeathed to but one, her monogamous beau.
His sack carrying offspring, soon released in the flow.
She focused on him, and the time now at hand,
United they galloped—
Giddy up—giddy up—
Till they stopped in the moonlight, and knelt in the sand.
Together they witnessed their family emerge.
Dad’s brood pouch and safety, quickly empty and purged.
Fully formed miniatures, resembling Mother and Dad,
A thousand new seahorses now galloped away—
Giddy up—giddy up—
The obscurity of sea grass, their new life’s launch pad.
The fancy carnival carousel caught my eye
Twelve wooden horses went prancing on by
I clambered on one, and enjoyed a horse ride
But when I had to dismount, oh how I cried!
When Mama and Papa tucked me into bed
Carousel horses galloped inside my head
I dreamed of riding through a fluffy cloud
My horse led the way; I felt ever so proud!
Every carousel horse has now been set free
With reins held tight, we cantered across the sea
When I woke from my dream I was on dry land
I won’t tell my folks .. grown-ups don’t understand!
Carousel Picture Prompt Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
04/06/20
Redemption Knight
He rode the wind on mighty steed
He drove it fast to gain more speed
To win the maiden: noble deed
As he galloped in the night…
He found his damsel in distress
With dragon claws clutching her dress
Disheveled hair and heart astress
As he galloped within sight…
One swift leap and he came aground
His rebel yell a mighty sound
Courage to fight in her he found
As he strode into her plight…
She gazed at eyes of azure blue
A depth of love she never knew
For handsome knight so brave and true
As she held on with her might…
He sunk he sword in to the hilt
Dragon heart blood to ground was spilt
Caught the damsel about to wilt
As his valor set things right…
In his strong arms she found her place
She gazed into his angel face
Between their bodies not a space
As the night was tinged with light…
He bowed his head to plant a kiss
A song of love, no dragon hiss
Her world now filled with utter bliss
As to heaven they took flight….
For Isaiah Zerbest Medaeval contest
August 3, 2013
2nd place win
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Knights are Dead
The knights in shining armor have all died
the damsels in distress are left...distressed
what once was chivalry and manly pride
by silence in the fight is now expressed
Where are the men who knew the right from wrong
who'd come to save a weaker one from pain
perhaps they have forgotten to be strong
their pleasure and their peace they want to gain
And so they leave the wounded in the field
Endeavoring to find what brings delight
forgotten are the ones they were to shield
They leave them there to suffer through the night
You were a knight, but that you are no more
those days are gone, they only live in lore
Eileen Manassian
She'd had her round in Life's blighting furnace,
Where stealthy wear and age blurred her face.
Dents shot where dreamy dimples had grown,
Lightning smiles usurped by involuntary frown.
In her livelier turns by Midas' glowing shores,
She galloped and gleamed like grated brass.
Time’s grim cankers fell on the rarefied feast
Of the cutest eye ever cast on envious glass.
If as a reincarnated phoenix's her gone grin
Could twirl and morph into its erstwhile arc,
She’d anon repulse her timing nemesis’ sin,
And give her faded glories an eternal spark.
Bereft of that fairy fowl's sheen-saving magic,
She’d to inevitably brave decay's stoic scythe.
Merry rhyme sung her sweet charms to mimic
Faded to ethers wherein dead beauties writhe.
No looker who her earth-blemished visage espies,
Can know she was the fairest star in kindlier skies.