Short Cinque Poems

Dry and sun scorched cliffs.
The vast ocean lies below.
Sweat drips from my brow....

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Waves crash down each day by day
As fishing boats dare make their way
The village square, by dawn, now quiet
as endless waves, with rocks, play riot

Then hustle and bustle, taunting streets
With men and boys from fishing fleets
Children scamper, scurrying, scream
While women weighing fish they clean

When midday sun offers no retreat
And cobblestones lie hushed with heat
Siesta silence creeps into town
Except where waves come crashing down...

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Ginger and I first met at a horse auction,
she was described as a strawberry roan
a gentle nature with a three-legged gait,
creating a bumpy ride because of this trait.

I learned to ride with Ginger hours at a time,
we were in cinque with leg commands,
she was not a fast quarter horse,
what a relief as she plodded the course.

Many years and miles passed along,
I remember my first horse with pride,
she was Ginger with an even soul,
who taught me to ride on the whole....

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