Tittle tittle
make love the middle
love
Which complicated romances
A fool should be
more wiser to see
not be obvious taking chances
It ain't bout rejection
See all I am reflecting
Is complicated
But it real
What I am suggesting
In such complications
Is ah due wash thyme will be
It ain't that complicated
And all you
Debated is where.
You stand with him
Or me
Neilsen got ratings
And what we debating
Is one of those
Who are oh succiees
White shelves and bammas
Your tense reminders
Is bout you and mi
Oboe, oh oboe
The piccolo has played
The piano is tuned
The song is fluted
Bytch why can't you behave
Barking and spicing
In your conversation
The secret recipe gave
Can't trust whores
Sorrstrees who
Chore-9h
Trick
Please behave
What that
Is it jelly
I ain't Mackiovelli
The triple crown has past
Is Preakness playing
We ain't behaving
Gonna give next guy
Sum azz
a cooling, refreshing contrast
the others provided a richer smoker
taste
a subtle but effective aromatic depth
a floral a bright, a citrusy, accent
consistent and smooth
each compliments the other
blending the sweet ripe taste
of both cherry and strawberries
Bing Chelan and Sweet Kiss,
Mara des Bois stands out as favorites
Natchez throneless sweetness are to
in consideration as Darrow Ponce or Apache
The Triple Crown stands out front
to provide flavor to the full richness of a blend
A creation of a product to be marveled
the world abroad. The felt jacket
may not have been a great choice
as it collected everything
from pet fur and hair.
It is with much regret and remorse,
that I must report a runaway horse.
Seabiscuit has up and left the course.
How can a beast of such renown,
who almost won the triple crown,
evade authorities and not be found?
By hiding on a merry-go-round.
Experiencing the dreaded silent scream again.
Doing my best to holler out my anxiety.
I may have a heart attack I think.
My heart is racing like it just lost the Triple Crown.
Fear has me incapacitated.
This nightmare is perpetually long.
I cannot handle much more of it.
I have a stern talk to my imagination upon awakening.
You are going to kill me for real! I warn her.
She smirks, gloats, and flits away, ignoring my requests.
Reminding me of my children.
Lo and behold, a marigold
Like nectar to sip, a bright tulip
No chill, just a thrill, a daffodil
Hold that perfect pose, M'ss Rose
When life has me down
When the world wears a frown
My garden sports a triple crown
Fragrance, color, God's grace
~ Sun-up to sundown
Withering daffodils are unnoticed--
my attention shifting mid-spring
to what’s new, more colorful.
I try not to see the dandelions,
glaring like headlights of oncoming traffic
whose presence will not be denied,
until beloved hyacinths
rescue the moment with spires of splendor,
rising as nature’s signets,
releasing what nostrils crave,
introducing the triple crown of spring--
hyacinth, lilac and viburnum.
There's a definite electrical charge that's flowing
Between T.O and the Big “O”, the ions are glowing
As well as that British guy
Cross the sea who comes by
A triple crown of joy with giggles overflowing
When I come back I will be a warhorse
Twenty one hands high
I will ignore my mistress, taking no direction.
I will run toward the valley
Where I will be free with no bridle or saddle
Thundering through, amazing other creatures.
My coat of many colors will dazzle the mares.
I will be a stallion
Well hung, and proud
Unless I choose to be Irish-setter red.
Irish setter red might be the best.
Then I could blend in with autumn and the fire sky.
My name will be Beauty Thunder
I will be followed by magnificent faeries
And sneaky, mean elves will despise me,
Putting raisins in my oat bucket.
Yes, I will return to my mistress's stable in the evening
To have a formidable bucket of oats.
I am not a hillbilly after all.
And I love running water,
I will win the Triple Crown twice,
Showing up all the other horses.
Yet with no training at all.
None can break me.
For I break myself,
Always in charge
Even as a warhorse.
The horse just won the Triple Crown;
Hard work and perseverance
Resulted in a victory
With little interference.
The training, grooming, practicing
All led up to the win
And now the celebrations
Must be ready to begin.
The jockey surely earned his pay,
A trophy his reward
But he gave credit, looking up,
To “Dios,” or the Lord.
Acknowledging a deity
Diminishes, to me,
The efforts which have been expended
Exponentially.
And if one’s prayers are answered
When the finish line is crossed,
What does it say to those who prayed
But still, their horses lost?
Triple Crown
Tissue paper hats
One last stroll in my wheelchair as I’m
Lost in the labyrinth of life.
Is that the sun peering through?
What can I possibly do?
Lost in the labyrinth of life.
Is there an end in sight?
Until another Triple Crown
Lost in the labyrinth of life.
'Twas pouring, and the thoroughbreds
Did gallop and thunder in the rain.
All muddy were the jockeys' silks,
And the weather quite insane.
"Beware the Kentucky Derby, Son!
Fame and fortune the trainers haunt.
Beware the length of the Preakness run,
And the exhausting Belmont."
He took the leather reins in hand.
Long time the winning horse he sought.
So mounted he on the saddle tree
And rode awhile in thought.
And as in dreaming thought he rode,
Secretariat, with eyes of brown,
Came sprinting through the tiring pack
Searching for renown.
One, two! One, two! and through and through-
The other jocks did frown-
He crossed the line by thirty-one lengths
And won the Triple Crown!
"And did we win the Triple Crown?
To the winner's circle, my wonder horse."
O fantastic day. Hurrah! Hooray!
The multitude did discourse.
'Twas pouring, and the thoroughbreds
Did gallop and thunder in the rain.
All muddy were the jockeys' silks,
And the weather quite insane.
lost in the
wild west riding
into town
gunslinger
trigger finger
meet the best
and go down
local saloon
I found clarity
with a girl flirt
said her name was
"Charity"
I told her
I would give
until it hurt
and charitable
she was...
with a howdy miss
gave her a kiss
just north of
her garter county
line she said how
about you grab
that garter
pardner
ride this filly
to the triple crown
you tasted
the best now
I expect you
to go down
"more than an athlete"
from the moment of birth you stood tall
with balance and strength you ran strong
for the love of freedom you were above all
it wasn't that you were a champion to rule
no other compared or could sing your song
trumpets sounded for you to hear
at that moment the sword was near
more than an athlete you remain Secretariat
three fine races were yours for the winning
demonstrating power excellence endurance
you set both stage and show from the beginning
with fullness of wonderment heart and eagerness
to this day your legacy is held with reverence
although one other ran your race to fame
your body of strength is a burning flame
more than an athlete you remain Secretariat
SkyWatcher - 05-28-17
Secretariat
March 30 1970 to October 4 1989
Triple Crown Winner June 9 1973
YOUR LOOKING GOOD AFTER A FEW DAYS REST.
YOUR FANS ARE HERE IN THEIR SUNDAYS BEST.
ACCORDING TO WRITERS, YOUR BETTER THAN MOST.
WHIRLAWAY BUDDY, WE'RE ONLY MINUTES FROM POST.
LET'EM SET THE PACE. WE'LL LET THEM RUN.
WE'LL COME FROM BEHIND MAKE IT LOOK LIKE FUN.
IN THE BACK STRETCH, THAT'S OUR TIME.
WE'LL MOVE UP FRONT AND WE'LL BE FINE.
OUT OF THE FAR TURN AND INTO THE STRETCH,
TAKE OVER THE RACE, THERE'S A BIG PURSE TO FETCH.
FROM INSIDE OUTSIDE STAY IN STRIDE.
IN THE WINNERS CIRCLE WE CAN STAND WITH PRIDE.
WHEN CROSSING THE FINISH, REMEMBER TO SMILE.
WE WANT THIS VICTORY TO LAST US A WHILE.
WHIRLAWAY, BABY, YOU HAVE A GREAT NAME,
AND IT BELONGS IN THE HALL OF FAME.
EDDIE ARCARO AND WHIRLAWAY.
TRIPLE CROWN WINNERS AND IT ALL STARTS TODAY.
WRITTEN IN MEMORY OF HORSE RACING'S LEGENDARY 1941 TRIPLE CROWN WINNER WHIRLAWAY AND JOCKEY EDDIE ARCARO.
American Pharoah,
swift as an arrow.
First triple crown winner to date,
since nineteen hundred and seventy-eight.
7/1/15
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