A floor of dead rusted leaves rustle and crackle
Crunching their crisp skins dancing under my feet
Shuffling with sodden soil thick with grit - I grapple
With sticky dew grass and spongy peat
Alligatored tree bark grabs my hands then bites as I shamble
Holding on for balance on uneven chards of scalloped stone
Dazed by the cool dark mist in this early morning amble
I am rough shod but heart happy right down to my bones!
Call me careless, slip shod if you dare
I throw myself onto a wet slip and slide without a care.
I am slipping, dipping, and dripping, on a slip slappy day.
A slipped disc? No worries. Cowslip meds are on their way.
Cinderella’s slipper has formed in the east next to a bright star.
I put on my frilly lace slip, and dance along with a hardy har har.
Take me to a boat slip and break out the ginger ale.
I kick on my slip and -ons and dance a jig in this gale.
Word play is slippery, but glittery, glitzy fun too.
I toss down ideas, they come out of the blue.
Call me careless, slip shod if you dare.
I toss the words down; how they land I don’t care.
Majestically standing in the field,
Black coat shiny, bright and sleek,
Pampered and good-natured,
Recently shod to ride,
Comfortable saddle to sit upon,
Whinnied to say "come on",
Spirited you want to run,
To own and ride a horse is a blessing not a chore,
Treat them right they will be loyal to the core,
Mistreat them !!!!!!!! Beware they kick.
Running Rip Shod With Fraud
Are many things that we love and laud;
Which are always appreciated by God;
From Him behoove,
A political move,
Except world running rip shod with fraud.
Jim Horn
Trump Fraud We Should Shod
Trump himself does like to laud;
Not only that thinks he is a god;
While he sat,
A dingbat,
While he lies and commits fraud.
Jim Horn
A warm Spring's fragrant wind
lifts leaf shadows as, molten metal
sizzles from the sudden wet plunge
A farrier holds firm the muddy fetlock
while on three legs a plough horse
stands, docile beneath the hammer blows
A brown eye shines and gently
shuts- he lets a practised hand
glide over sweat-stained withers
that wiggle when a fly lands
The first foot falls- a soft
snort from a velvet muzzle as he
lifts the other to be shod
Soft hooves becoming, iron clad
For the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings must appear on poem
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