Short Palomino Poems
Short Palomino Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Palomino by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Palomino by length and keyword.
on his regal waves
galloped by my gallant knight
marvel to behold
his daintiness is a prize
I wish for a tandem ride
March 8, 2015 7.30 pm
A palomino is to a horse
as a lead is to its source
If that makes sense to you
I'll ride the palomino
~ You ride the horse
Animal
Barn
Conceited
Dapper
Edgy
Fickle
Gallops
Headstrong
Ingenious
Jumping
Kicking
Leaping
Mischievous
Nagging
Objectionable
Palomino
Quarter
Runner
Speaks
Talks
Understands
Voices
Wacky
XL
Yahoo
Zaniness
So, this is where butterflies go to die.
Atop this burning ochre beach.
Amidst the palomino stones, party streamers, and chinook bones.
They folded up their powdery dreams.
Awaiting the pallbearer's tide.
Toting emerald caskets, silver-lined.
So, this is where butterflies go to die.
Palomino pony was stopped by the storm
he laid down to rest, but did not make it
the fey took pity on him due to his beauty
they fashioned him into a gorgeous tree
he no longer has to scrounge for food
he sits on a hill overlooking other trees
showing his beauty to the world
as his tangerine and gold leaves fall onto snow
McDiver’s Creek
Autumn’s over.
Wheatcake odors flood the wood
front porch. Andrew Stock,
in mackinaw and overalls,
tamps first tobacco of the day
and estimates his morning.
In an open field beyond McDiver’s Creek
a colt, palomino apricot
and snow, nips grass between
great gallops and the shock of trees.
Donal Mahoney
Kentucky Dawn
Autumn’s over.
Wheat cake odors flood the wood
front porch. Andrew Block,
in mackinaw and overalls,
tamps first tobacco of the day
and estimates his morning.
In an open field
beyond McDiver’s Creek
Andrew Block can see his colt,
palomino apricot and snow,
nip grass between
great gallops and the shock of trees.
Donal Mahoney
It was not the robe flowing beanied
kind;
nor the ball batting
St. Louis slugging
variety.
I saw the shrill-
whistling flying
mr. proud to be a bird
red male looking for a
palomino-ed colored female kind of cardinal
come a calling not for me,
the earth-bound tin-eared
feather-free wingless woman
martian-looking
through a pair of Zeiss.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
June 21, 2012
She tightens her saddle one last time
She's ready to go, ready to ride
Her palomino mare snorts and paws roaring to run
The buzzer sounds, now its on
Down the middle veering right
She makes the turn, the crowd ignites
On to the second whippin' her hard
The barrel tips but doesn't go far
One more to go, she's clenching her teeth
'Round she goes she can't be beat!
On the home stretch, kickin' up dust
Through the gate she goes
She's the number one
Form:
I wished I were a cowboy riding a handsome palomino,
But, I was just a little kid, my sis watching Valentino.
I wished I were a cowboy rounding up the longhorns,
But, I was just a little kid still believing in unicorns.
I wished I were a cowboy drinking a sarsaparilla,
But, I fell asleep at night clutching my Roy Rogers pillow.
As time went by, I grew up and moved on to bigger things
But, when I hear “Happy Trails to You” my heart still gladly sings!