The horse whinnied,
are you alone?
He ran off into the light,
afraid of the night.
Boy what are you doing here?
You're far off trail arent you?
All the posse is up there,
I know all these mountains.
He was the lead horse in a wagon train,
It was a lot of mountain.
He could not climb,
his major wanted him to master it.
A peak of the angered god,
the winds howl with a human voice.
commanding him with persuasion,
but it's a tricky climb lord.
Stradeling a virgin peak,
He shouted at the sky.
Let's go boy,
yes we'll make it.
Come on boy,
there's a cave up there.
Get the lantern,
light my way.
This cave has no bottom,
now what?
We can continue on,
or we can fall.
I don't like the odds,
I can't do either.
You can sit here frightened,
or take a leap of faith.
Alright enough, enough,
I will continue climbing.
Take up my slack,
pull boy, pull!
Together we can get it done,
just keep going,
Don't look down,
let's go, giddy up.
I see stars,
I see the moon.
I hear wind,
we'll be home soon.
Categories:
whinnied, anxiety, courage, endurance, fear,
Form: Free verse
Oh Discordia
Beneath the sun, a rider bold.
Naked in this story told.
A tale of dreams and tales untold.
Listen to their future unfold.
The horse did stumble, the girl did fall.
A corset whore, no clothes at all.
They slid as one, through an abandoned mall.
No purchase on the floor at all.
Through this delirious dance, they shared a dream.
Mrs.Sliptoe, was her name, a future queen.
While Bammy whinnied
*neiiigh!! NEIIIGH* "Forevermore take my hoof, off to a place unseen".
In a feverdream, they wed that day.
A union strange, in disarray.
The horse and girl, a bond surreal.
A fleeting love, yet beastially real.
They ruled as one over the denizens of discordia.
Oh discordia.
Categories:
whinnied, animal,
Form: Rhyme
Headless horseman came in the dead of night, but he made no sound.
His stallion did though – it neighed and whinnied and twirled around.
You must have been in Sleepy Hollow a relative said.
He is more unimaginative than a skeleton dead.
Categories:
whinnied, halloween,
Form: Rhyme
Pecos Bill rode herd in the vast forlorn.
His quiet Paint gobbled buttered popcorn.
A tornado, in a fit,
Came for a whirlwind visit.
“Paint, meet Curley. His back I will adorn.”
Bill grabbed his rope and threw a loop with hope
And saddled the whirlwind so Paint could lope,
Leisurely grazing along
While Bill sang a peaceful song
Though the twister used top spin, Bill could cope.
Whirly raced north swift as antelope might.
Picking up barns, tossing them left and right,
Heaving a freight train five miles.
Bill hung on with joyful smiles,
“Almost beats chasing roadrunners at night.”
Bill rode that twister into a broke nag,
That lay city curbside limp as a rag,
A sadder, but wiser storm.
Where his horse Paint, true to form,
Whinnied by the nag, wanting to play tag.
A jolly sheriff saw Bill ride in view,
He chose at least three tickets to issue:
Parking in a tow away;
No emissions valve that day;
Driving a twister with no license too.
Tale Tales 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jeff Kyser
Date Written: 3/14/2022
Used Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
Categories:
whinnied, adventure, animal, city, horse,
Form: Limerick
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.
Categories:
whinnied, animal, beauty, horse,
Form: Free verse
What if us humans walked around on all fours
And barked at other homeys or whinnied like a horse
Mares wearing tiaras
Seating at the opera
The Golden Corral restaurant would be popular of course
Categories:
whinnied, silly,
Form: Limerick
The frothy waves lapped hungrily at the shore
Polishing the rough rocks smooth, licking the sand
The cool northeast winds were picking up briskly
Blowing clouds of ominous pitch to the land
The woman sat trying to steady her mare
Her nostrils flared as the sea spray pelted her
They both could sense the impending thunderstorm
She guided her back with a kick of a spur
As she neared the stable thunder clapped loudly
Her mare whinnied in protest to the fright
The woman then ran home and raced up the stairs
To poise herself on the small porch for the night
Her man was the captain of the ship “Misty”
He was due to reach port the following day
She could spy the lighthouse near the shore below
There to ensure her man did not lose his way
For the sea could be cruel and kill those who dare
To challenge her fury and think that their ship
Can navigate through the wildest of waters
With no fear of death during their ocean trip
She stood on the balcony, wind gusting strong
But felt comfort from seeing the beacon of light
That would guide her man through the treacherous rocks
In the darkness, she prayed he would be all right
Categories:
whinnied, absence,
Form: Pantoum
You could see the lone figure in the pale, fading light,
Bedding down the doggies for a restful night.
He had been in the saddle since early morn',
Now feeling the aches of the drive that made him feel "worn".
The three other horses he had taken from the remuda that day,
Were now being tied and fed, as they whinnied and neighed.
"Woh, cattle...Woh, cattle", he sang softly to the steers,
Another six weeks on the trail and he would be filling his night with beers.
When the herd was quiet, the first 'Nighthawks' came,
He sighed with relief, as he tugged on the reins.
In just a few minutes he was putting his saddle and bedroll aright,
the grub made...biscuits, beans, and salt pork for tonight.
Then he unbuckled his gunbelt and laid down in his place,
Knowing full well, he'd be up before dawn to relieve the man on the trace.
It was hard work but he loved it, or so he said,
More of the Chisolm waited for them up ahead.
Yet it was the cows, the horses, the danger, and freedom he dared,
And those few other comrades whose journey he shared.
Yes, it was this "Cowboy Life" full of its highs and lows,
It was all that he needed, and was the life he chose.
Categories:
whinnied, adventure, environment, image, nostalgia,
Form: Couplet
His Hide Was Too Wide
In jolly old England, Sir Henry, his lordship looked for a horse to ride
After a few days a horse was found and he tried to oblige
However, when Lord Henry approached his side, the horse reared in
the air and let out a loud “Yip”
Lord Henry, very upset, yelled, “Calm down old horse, we must make
this trip”
“But sir, “ said the horse, “I don't mean to be rude, but your
circumference is very wide. You could break my hip”
Of course, this hurt his Lordship's pride
“Hush up old horse, allow me to mount, or I'll use my whip!”
“Ney, Ney,” the old horse whinnied, and broke his stride, jerked
his head back, and of Lord Henry's arm took a nip.
So even though he tried, Lord Henry didn't get a ride because the old
horse thought his hide was too wide
Sorry no longer politically correct
Categories:
whinnied, england, horse, nonsense,
Form: Rhyme
They formed a posse and it was loaded
Three experienced at tracking
And their guide
He was a one-legged kangaroo
No one dared to waltz with him
Even Matilda kept clear
The heat was unbearable
Australia
And no one liked bank robbers
Crossing upstream the three rode through rapids
One horse was bitten by a bee
It startled him and reared
Throwing the third rider into the rapids
One scream and carried downstream
The other two rode the banks and the rapid
And their one legged kangaroo hopped
One hop forward but always angles
They came to a suddenly quiet pool
They saw a hat that was clear
The horse whinnied and a single tear
The kangaroo was exhausted and thought of a new line of work
His master lay face down and floated
The three horses gazed at the floater
And the two men followed their lead
And what about the bank robbers
They had a pint
A Lil' Bit of Aus... Free Poetry Contest
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
Categories:
whinnied, funny, horse,
Form: Free verse
I read about this true story - it happened in Elizabethan England - and was so
upset that I needed to write this poem to get it off my chest. It's been published 3
times.
FIGHTING CHANCE
The mobs that packed the place
Were slavering for blood;
They sniffed it in the air
And, drooling, watched it flood.
The bears and bulls were dead;
A horse was dragged to fight,
It whinnied, reared and bucked,
Its nostrils flared in fright.
The pack was at the horse,
Their hungry jaws like traps;
That brutal, bloody scene
Was met with cheers and claps.
The gore of horse and dogs
Had turned the dust red-brown;
Those snarling dogs no match
For hooves that thundered down.
The dogs lay scattered round;
The roaring crowd was awed;
But then demanded more:
A second pack was called.
The horse, insane with fear,
Exhausted, fought to live;
The dogs were fresh, but he
Should have no more to give.
His will to live was strong;
The dogs were on his back;
Defeating mastiff jaws,
He tossed and killed that pack.
The rabble drunk on blood,
Addicted to it then,
Still called for more; the horse
Was hacked to death by men.
Jack Horne
Categories:
whinnied, animalshorse,
Form: Rhyme