Long Horseback riding Poems
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Every form of life has it's walls, nothing, no one stands alone
some are trees, brush, branch, twig and wood and bark
some are mortar and stone, mere workers flesh and bone
others lay in memorials of the mind and heart of freedom's start.
Walking in the shadows of the forest growing bare
the pathway, worn and tattered by twigs and leaves of this locale
abandoned layers born of unknown, hidden architects no longer there
an opening spillway becomes a stage to walled canals.
Some harvested stone stacked upon each side
keeping water flow secure along Delaware and Raritan park roams
contained and directed from Bound Brook on to Princeton pride
away from the mix of dirt and cobblestones.
Who once walked here, where canoed and kayak waters strewn?
along this unpaved curl of hidden trails indemnity
twists and turns unfurling to a spillway hewn
where memorials now stand as markers without memory.
They say, Irish immigrants built this waterway like a well-planned quilt
some bodies buried where they worked and died
benath the rocked mortared wall containments blood built
and their hearts sought freedom without walls that today still cry,
For Craig Cornish cotest, A Wall in the Woods
10/7/2020
Background: The 70-mile Delaware and Raritan Canal State Park is one of central New Jersey's most popular recreational corridors for canoeing, jogging, hiking, bicycling, fishing and horseback riding. The canal and the park are part of the National Recreation Trail System. This linear park is also a valuable wildlife corridor connecting fields and forests. A recent bird survey conducted in the park revealed 160 species of birds, almost 90 of which nested in the park.
With its wooden bridges and 19th century bridge tender houses, remnants of locks, cobblestone spillways and hand-built stone-arched culverts, the canal is a tremendous attraction for history lovers. The upper portion of the feeder canal follows the Delaware River through historic New Jersey towns such as Frenchtown, Stockton and Lambertville. The main canal passes the Port Mercer bridge tender's house, through the charming villages of Kingston and Griggstown to Blackwells Mills.
Queen Elizabeth I
A ll things are as it may, beckons a queendom of two faiths,
B orrowed Boleyn's "B" blue brocade the better choice made,
C ancer claims the spring, agrees with the passage of her sister,
D elves to part the heavens anew throne, amidst assassins, lurking
E ffervescent Elizabeth surrenders calmly a surreal destiny,
F orward justice by the will of grace, and a whimsical gestured cloaked puddle
G reat be her ascension not quiet to title claimed by Mary,
H eretics purged sweetly returns, catholicism stands down
I n a realm of stories a chapter freshens a protestant queen
J oyfulness echoes chambered walls, as a parley of power slithers
K ing bequeathed in a woman's dress, as a pence-less nation recovers
L ustrous gems befall righteously, as Spanish gold doubloons are pirated
M en neath ruffles maneuvering positions placates a capricious court
N orfolk his grace whose days are numbered for treason, pride begs none
O nly wisdom and loyalty keep heads secured, within a fickled court
P alace breeds a treacherous bedfellow, proffers an end worse than death
Q ueen banished him to seclusion as a fading insignificant consequence,
R ewards Drake, Raleigh and others from a grateful empire as her saviors
S aves her empire whilst arrogant Philip of Spain loses his in humility,
T enders Raleigh to his Virginia pretense in her name,
U nsettling execution of Mary Queen Of Scots, in harm's way, opens floodgates
V ersed in archery and horseback riding ascertains her birthright,
W ell endowed in the role of the sciences versus human endeavors,
X enial role model for women, mirrors removal tames loose tongues
Y ields to her title as the Virgin Queen, as her treasury is restored by the West
Z eal was her marriage to England, strengthen via the bogs of Ireland
2020 February 07
*1st Place*
ABECEDARIAN CONTEST
~~Caren Krutsinger
*Honorable Mention*
STRAND SELECT G any form,any theme
~~Brian Strand
The air was thin and icy.
It was dark and cold outside.
A blanket of snow covered the ground.
The footprints in the snow led the way.
We loaded the bus one-by-one as if we were animals entering Noah’s Ark.
Statuesque beings sat motionless in their seats.
Twenty pairs of eyes half-open stared blankly ahead fixated on nothingness.
Our journey to the unknown was about to begin.
The bus tired spun in circles like a child’s merry-go-round.
Round and round they went like the thoughts in my head.
I felt like a kid at the circus.
Excitement and freedom swept over me like a cool, summer breeze.
The road was long and unfamiliar.
Time passed by so slowly as if the earth’s stopwatch had been turned off.
The once frozen bus was not swimming in a sea of hot air.
Our final destination was a small, almost-deserted town in Upstate NY.
It looked as though a plague had swept through like a giant broom and devastated it completely.
One after the other buses pulled up.
A sea of yellow painted the once dreary canvas.
Girls of all shapes and sizes descended onto the now colorful landscape.
All dressed in tan britches, black boots, and smiles.
The clan of riders filed into the ring like a colony of ants all with the same mission.
This was my first mission.
I was a soldier going into battle for the first time.
The ant colony gathered in a circular formation.
The sign-in table was engulfed and swallowed whole.
Numbers were being handed out, one-by-one.
36, 17, 41, 54, 62, 12, 19, 38…
The judge’s voice boomed over the speaker like the voice of G-d.
Every crevice of the ring was filled with the loud, unclear syllables.
Girls of horseback walked proudly and calmly into the ring.
Horses arched their necks and pranced around as if they owned the world.
Tails raised slightly, eyes beaming forward, chests massive.
Hours passed by like days.
My nerves built up like a roaring fireball in my stomach.
One swift leg-up from my coach and I am propelled onto the horse.
I land smoothly into seat of the saddle.
I am welcomed with open arms.
Together, as one creation, we walked into the ring to compete the mission at hand.
Form:
SECRETS IN THE KEEP
Secrets, secrets ------ secrets in the Keep; maidens call them without which they
shall meet, of the baron and his bride a solemn meet, sordid secrets,
secrets in the Keep
A wizard's spell, a call of bell and peal, chimes and trumpets
the courtyard round, princess-pretty prince and horseback riding; jumping
brushes and endless jumps, then at last confiding ------
the wizard's wicked coniving
Brick and mortar and stone thrice born, eaves of swollen vine above the tower
corner, sneaking windows and fingered leafy-ropes reaching out; climbing
wooden portals to keep the monarch without ------ the palace walls, the royal
halls and pallisade stalls, rolling hills in distances afar
Trapped, amidst leering buzzards abound, feeding to feed on king and queen,
eyes from walls, eyes in the deep ----- dark earth of smitten Keep, Shadow
wakened... wakened from sleep
The heart of many sorrow down, unwakened from sleep; rise they may, rise they
shall, one by one as they do not slay... never so soon must they stay the hearts
of men fast, lucid mind and with heavy task ----- stay the peace, o be it so to
everlasting end
Naught is written on but a few of every brow, stay the peace? asks the haggled
plea of many soul, wrought to bitter end, unsheathed to war and revolution,
their solace but a solution for kings this night; one rose above the dreary
doom lit light, sheathed aplenty in golden hue, and addressing himself he
gave a sting and hello, for he spoke truth to every soul
Yet the heart be that it may, overwhelmed and possessed to pillage and slay,
to teach them and baron ----- the villains from the east, a lesson this day,
the king rose up and spoke, calmly and hoped ----- it be not they to decide
the fate of kings; offering peace in place of baneful hope
Though always, secrets, secrets ----- secrets in the keep...
See them flourishing in the field with vines running up and down the street, petals of hope are springing up everywhere opening up branches far and near and the lessons that we learn are hidden beneath the fallen leaves that descend on the earth with the ferocious breeze and the shadows climbing up the hill lay bare on my window sill and natures bears the burden.
I stand on top of the mountain of hope and view the vast landscape below, miles and miles of grass lands staring at me with empty hands but somewhere beyond sea another universe was waiting for me.
I could not see it clearly but I could visualize it internally, the trees were blocking my view preventing the deal from coming through and so I have to journey to the other side of the sea.
I used to visit this place that is full of grace, I used to roll up and down the hill and go horseback riding around the track and when night fall I use to camp out in the open space and watch the moonlight gleaming in the sky and the stars gather around it spreading its light upon the sea and singing sweet melodies.
There is so much memory in this place, the orchestra, the music the band, its memory is soaked in blood upon this land, I can still hear the screams and shouts when the curtain opens and at curtain call the voices are still screaming, everything seems like yesterday.
The smiles, the touch, the laughter and lovers romancing at the alter is still there oh how it makes my heart fear, sweet music is playing in the air but no one is there, the land is dry, empty and bare; its occupants roaming from village to town without a proper home.
A town that once stood in the heart of the country is crying out for mercy, I will buy this town and rebuild the homes and bring back the joy it once had,
Petal of hope is coming to town, petal of hope will rebuild the town, and Petal of hope will flourish in this town.
Look for a home for me that lie beyond the sea
with grapes that run on vines, apple and peaches that
grow on limb, juicy pear that last the whole year
and an orchard erected on the hill where I can sing.
Look for a home for me where the castle parachute in the air
And I have to climb on top of a ladder to get there,
For an age old mystery lurks in the bushes for more than a hundred years and wolves and dogs used to hunt and the sun
carved out a symbol in the ground to show where the heavens began.
Look for a home for me where bee hives spread out in the trees
And a miracle is waiting for thee; the old bee keeper suddenly disappeared and his bones were found in a nearby canal after ten years, the evidence is still waiting there and you have nothing to fear; the land lay cold and bear with bushes everywhere for nobody wants to live there, please take me there.
Look for a home where I can roam with lots of room covering the length and breadth of the town and curious eyes lined the street symbolizing a message that runs deep.
Look for a home that fits my personality and my creativity
I place that I can work all day irrespective of what comes my way.
Look for a place where I can build things to make a healthy honest living, and run a business inside that can feed the multitude on the other side. And when the earth’s nature gives birth, I can go horseback riding without shirt or skirt and skip on grassy hills until my spirit reaches the desert sand.
I have been searching for a home since I was three
One with courage on top and an avenue that run around the back
It has a castle around it and a modern décor that leads toward the sea, that is the place where I would like to be; please find the
perfect home for me.
People are humans, They are children, They are adults, They are male, they are female, some may be in between, some may not identify as either, some may act as animals, some may like opposite genders, or the same gender, some may never want to grow up, some may want to grow up quickly, some act like children when there adults, some act like adults when there children, some may be an older sister, or a younger sister, maybe a older brother, or a younger brother, some may have no parents, some have two parents, some only have one parent, some do dance, some do horseback riding, Some do baseball, some do football, some do basketball, some do gymnastics, some may not do any sport, some may be really smart, some may be a little smart, some thrive at school, some struggle in school, some have a bad past and a bad future, some have a good past and a good future, some have a bad past, but a good future, or some may have a good past, but a bad future, and that’s okay, or at least that’s what we say to ourselves, say to society to frame ourselves as the good person and not the evil one, even though there isn’t a good or evil, there never has and never will be, so why do we claim to be such good people and act like such good people when we are the ones who judge everyone else on what they do, what they’ve done, what they identify as, who they like, what their family looks like, why does it matter, They are people, people are humans, not made to be teased, bullied or judged, for what they choose to do in their life, there life isn’t our life, we don’t get to choose what they do, we don’t have any ownership over it, it isn’t our responsibility, They are people, They are Humans. They are the ones to change the world, forever.
Take me to the countryside
where all the daffodils grow
fresh perfume saturating the air
dispersing sensational aroma
in the atmosphere.
Take me to the countryside
to inhale the balmy fragrance
of mother earth,
to walk on grassy lands
and hold each other hands.
Take me to the countryside
to gaze at the swaying trees,
and listen to them humming breathlessly
in the chilly breeze.
enchanting birds singing in the gusty afternoon,
dancing vigorously to their melodious tune.
Take me to the countryside
where all the natural things grow,
tangerine, oranges , banana and kiwi fruit.
homemade yogurt ,sweet yam
and fresh milk from grandpa’s lamb.
Take me to the countryside
to coalesce with earthy peasants,
to run up and down the cornfield
and waddle through onion beds.
Soak me in nature,
and replenish my aching soul
purge my agonizing wound,
and distill my sorrowful tune.
My soul yearns for spiritual fulfillment
to drown the chaos from the external environment,
mineral water and running streams,
strumming guitars and melodious flutes
are singing harmoniously,
and whispering the truth.
lead me to a place of comfort,
a place where I can breathe,
a place of beauty and incomparable dreams.
Take me to the countryside
to mingle with the animals,
to go horseback riding,
and camp on the mountain top.
Take me away from this hopelessness,
to a place of peace and quietness.
Take me away from this desolation
and find away to solve this confusion.
I want to be free,
free from this burden and misery,
so take me with you before you leave.
When I close my eyes and count to three
at the sound of the whistle
I charge you to set me free.
©2013 Christine Phillips
Feelings are Tricky
Feelings come and go like going horseback riding without the horse...
Feelings are Tricky
Feelings & thoughts of inadequacy thoughts running rapid like you're on an never ending roller coaster tossed here & there.
Feelings are Tricky
So I say again...
Feeling like pieces to a puzzle full of pieces to a puzzle that almost fit but not exactly so to speak. t's like your mind is playing tricks now you see now you don't, as though your mind is slowly, slowly unbelievable slipping away.
Feelings are Tricky
In the darkness like over flowing rivers resembling a river non-stop, joy, fear, anger & solitude, oh my oh my...
Feelings are Tricky
surrounded by unfavorable, fading circumstances. In the state of desperation & hope at the same time.
Feelings are Tricky
seeming trapped in darkness and the light of day, like morning dew with an array of beauty.
Feelings are Tricky
Sometimes it's hard living beyond your feelings, because they follow us around all day even to eternality holding onto dear life...
Feelings are Tricky
Oh my Lord what's going on now..
Feelings are Tricky
like waves, moments of hope, satisfaction, peace, contentment, trust, accountability, pride, fear with no self control...
only in the end of day to realize it's only feelings with it's twists & turns going to & fro...
By: Deborah Vines penned 10/14/2017
Picked up Jane and we're walking to the balcony,
and shown where we'll be sitting as the crowds mose-in,
and there's some excitement 'neath the floor we had left,
sparked favored light applause from one estranged bereft,
we're bemused fetching about well anchored split views,
what fabled then hath waned onto a seasick cruise,
be no mistake of it with drinks, friends do what's best,
hotel days reminisce thanks to Clint' absent guest,
as they all three turned out as definite no show,
with the place still hoping Jane decided to go,
particularly since she got to go to work that night,
lead's A.M. show and luncheon, I'd sleep on-site.
Jane is a night auditor, a night accountant,
close a hotels daily in and out dependent.
Pebble Beach Lodge is a five-star golf course hotel,
be rooms, restaurants, banquets and bars, is the nutshell,
spas, saunas, massage, yoga, thereapeutic and
salons, horseback riding class, pool concession stand,
and yes, golfing lessons as par for the course, please,
they're not free as they're taught by legends--like their fees.
... home tomorrow ...