Seahorse princess dove down into the depths of the sea
She was loving it so, feeling pretty, wild, wiggly and free
The seahorse she rode was almost as full of glee
They were true companions, soulmates you see
By Phan Tan Hai
Raising the cup—lips already warm,
the tongue still tingling as we laugh and go.
Tomorrow’s winds may rage—what of it?
Hair once green now silver, we wager life and fate.
I wander through mountains, my brow touched by green peaks;
in every distant city, clouds still drift.
Under the moon I laugh and ask—tell me,
does blood tonight carry the fragrance of wine?
Tilting the cup, the wine spills down my hand;
drunk, I repay a thousand wild waves
for the childhood days they stole.
Laughing aloud, I ask—are you drunk yet?
I am drunk for a thousand lifetimes
on the shore between life and death.
Roaming through this dusty, mistaken world,
our oath-wine mixed with blood beneath the moon.
At midnight I call the mountains and rivers to rise—
the celestial steed returns, hooves ringing in moonlight.
A hollowed weight descends upon the floor,
The floorboards creak beneath a phantom hoof.
Though sight remains a cold and distant proof,
A skeletal presence paces by the door.
I feel the stir of leathery wings that soar
Within the mind, beneath this heavy roof;
It stands in silence, jagged and aloof,
A shadow-shape from ancient, darker lore.
A sudden echo of a breathless sigh
Disturbs the dust like wind on barren graves.
I reach to touch the void where ribs should be,
And find a pulse that doesn't seek to fly,
But lingers in the silence that it craves—
A secret kept for those who truly see.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There once was a pumpkin-spiced squirrel Edwina, quite stout
Who on Halloween did shout, "I'll be airborne, no doubt!"
With a whisk-twitch squirrelly spell
She rode her broomstick quite well—
Over the forest and thereabouts, anywhere, her favorite route.
Her panadas stash fueled her yearly, shadowy flight,
As she zipped through the oak-shadows until daylight
Upon her tail-tufted steed—
She was a magnificent rodent indeed!—
Edwina owned the sky, the corvids scattering in sheer, nutty fright.
Ride out the hollow hills, my corgi steed
Though your size is tiny
Your brave heart is almighty!
.
Pronunciating
Yahweh's in thuh depth uv mine
Pluperfect Divine
Dapper coachman frog wore his top hat with star power
He travels this route regularly, always at the thirteenth hour.
His steed is a caterpillar who hails from the Bigtown Bower.
He cringes sometimes, when there is a storm or hard rain shower.
Fire and Light, Elijahs Creed
Of Lightning and Thunder, Progeny
Riding Ruby Wings that Gleam Supreme
Armored in Faith, Grace, and Majesty
Gryphon Sealed
The Solar Crest for the War Helmet and Battle Shield,
Feet Shod in Gold and Fleece
Head High, Thus must be Elijahs Steed
Hidden Face Man of Des Moines was carrying his steed to Derby Town.
It’s the oddest sight, agreed a jokester, a monkey, a duck and a clown.
Onlookers wanted to take a peek, for it is not a matter of course
When you see a man in a turban carrying a brown upside down horse.
Where is my steed the king asked his wife
She kind of knew but she valued her life
She lied a bit guiding him to an unsuspecting patron
Steed joined her at court, dressed as a pretty matron.
Steed was tired of skirmishes, battles and war.
He said “I am getting older, and my body is sore.”
Steed had always protected queen’s husband, the king.
Queen gave him apples, sugar, and a break that entire spring.
Madeline was attached to her horse as to no other.
Not her siblings, her father, her groom or her brother.
Her horse was tall, magnificent and seventeen hands high.
They together were formidable and intimidating, no lie.
They entered events as a unit of one, completely together.
Showed up at horse shows, no matter if inclement weather.
United in spirit so well, Madeline began to look like her horse.
Not seventeen hands high. That would have been silly of course.
Her siblings got married and moved away from the ranch.
They started a new family tree. Each with a new branch.
Madeline stayed around, taking care of her parents and steed.
Never marrying, but happy with her favorite boy, Old Mead.
If love our steed, do the good deed
As of our heart’s instinct
Choose to rest greed, live as of need
Joyous bliss our precinct
Breathe easy, have some fun
Rest ego, come undone
Know that we all are one
We gather speed
If love our steed
08-December-2021
Quietus
I ride a pale horse
Mr. Time has come for me
Days end requiem
Through wind and cold rain
Teeming hard on road and steed
I make my way home
Sweltering sun on his beaded sweat
His iron hoofs hammered the dry parched grass
Native winds did part his black mane offset
Heaving nostrils breathing fire flaring past
Wild spirits burst in his running heart unsurpassed
Sinew and stamina pulsed in perfect time
Galloping veins popping with every stride
Precision and purity surged in his royal blood sublime
This nomads journey held its course and was his to guide
His head was held with majesty, this steed of sanguine pride
August 10, 2010
The unicorn ball was in full neigh.
When a purple steed came in to play.
Who is he? Asked the mares.
Some thought he put on airs.
Steeds snotty, thought he’d whisk their girls away.
His ribbons were of silver and gray.
His laughter was a titillating bray.
Girlfriends he did not care
Was not looking for a mare
He liked them not. Was totally gay.
Everyone opened up to him.
Oh, he’s cute! Look at his chin!
Competition gone.
Now gentle as a fawn
They included and loved this purple him!
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