My friend is known for a horsey type grin
Along with his whinny, he can run like the wind
Through fields of clover
Don't mind his odour
Just hold onto your schnoz and try not to wince
Poetry is hard to define
as its language may be refined
or coarse, like a horse with a whinny
or – pardon my simile – a whine
Some readers expect rhythm and flow
though others reject that, I know
A kaleidoscope of images may burst forth
unlike understated razor’s-edge mirth
Poetry's aura is in her mystery
~ that adorns her with majesty
Swish tailed Hamish, gloss black Stallion
Proud prize show hero bore blue medallion
Champion head turner tenacious steed
Lonely hoof stomper longed for a companion
Incidence of coinciding reserved to imagine
Narrow minded owners oblivious to his need
High knee haughty mare trotted by his enclosure
Temptation's waft overcame limited exposure
Hamish neighed a friend request, - she agreed
Lake rippled muscle, alpha outraged neck tossed
Winner's whinny recognised chance may be lost
Breaking barriers now became a necessary deed
Chest of windswept lake assisted stable escape
Charging through victoriously, gate swung agape
Asked lady to dance, she daringly took the lead
Dust distubed finesse surpassed usual manuevres
Hamish whispered happily, " Forever, the two of us."
Most cherished equine paradise known while freed
28th July 2020
Written for Contest: Tail End Stanza
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
In pantomime a filly runs
Awhile away sincere her dame
Never fear a bit intrusion
Reign again over wild yet tame
Solemn hoof of sonic drumming
Waits for none to steer along
Simple mane a woolly ripple
Ride the wind of passions song
Split rail timing never far
A heart appeals for whinny fair
Oh dust of pastures melody
To long for Misty morning air
There once was a nanny,* lived in New Guinea
She's spot her billy, O would she whinny
She'd kick up her feet
And then she would bleat
She'd curl the hair on his chin-chin-chinny
*A nanny is a female goat
William had a whinging wife.
William was a fool.
When she begged him for some water,
For too wet her whistle.
William tossed her in the pool.
William’s wife Wilma,
Looked at life quite starkly.
She whimpered and she whined.
While William was the whimsical kind;
Full of whigmaleerie and malarkey.
William had the wherewithal,
Which made them quite wealthy.
Wilma was no whiffler,
And didn’t merely whinny.
She whinged about her William and his methodology.
I heard them talking in low voices.
“I will watch her today,” one hissed.
“It is my turn,” argued the other one, in an even lower tone.
I scrunched my eyes tightly, pretending to remain asleep.
“Shh! She’s awake!” a loud whisper.
“How do you know?”
“Look at her.”
I scrunched my eyes a bit tighter, but tried to relax my forehead.
Fooling neither. Silence came.
So I sat up and began blinking around the room.
The dog was snoring loudly.
Both the clock radio and Alexa were silent.
Had I dreamed these voices?
I felt a small petite whinny.
A psychic clue.
But what horse is in here?
My eyes traveled over the top of the dresser.
There are fireflies, butterflies, raccoons, and angels represented.
But horse? No.
Snicker. A small psychic one.
Two horses. I glance sharply to my right,
and look into the face of a purple unicorn I have painted.
Suddenly knowing, my face throws herself to the left.
Where the pink polka dot unicorn is silently snickering.
It helps to have a sixth sense sometimes.
I call neither out,
glad for their protection.
Santa Hits The Snooze Button
(For Christmas Cheer contest)
Santa woke up feeling fruity
The Mrs was spark out
He grinned cos in a minute
His Rudolph clock would shout
Whinny, whinny, moo, quack
Whinny, whinny, neigh
(How’s a poet sposed to know
What Reindeer clocks might say)
Even though his wife nowadays
Is lamb dressed up as mutton
He sees her how she used to be
So wallops that snooze button
So Santa’s got ten minutes
For undercover fun
Please excuse the metaphor...
He’s got a loaded gun
We’ve got a spare ten minutes
Come take your man to heaven
Well what we gonna do she said
With the other seven
3 December 2018
Before the light of day begins,
There's a song that's sung by birds.
The Robin begins it, one note at a time,
And then he spreads the word.
A new day's beginning, open your eyes,
Greet the morning light.
The Cardinal answers by singing back,
In slurred whistles, cheery and bright.
Chickadees join in and sing their tune,
The Blue Jay squawks a loud jeeah.
Mockingbirds mimic everyone,
The Gray Catbird sasses the day.
A Downy repeats a rapid whinny of notes,
That is descending in pitch each time.
A House Wren emits his buzzing chatter,
While a Song Sparrow sings sweet rhyme.
Each tune is sung again and again,
Some short and some very long,
Lasting an hour or maybe two,
Serenading us with the Dawn Song.
up on the moors, sweet love
shadows dance at dusk.
low across the purple shades
wild ponies whinny
and snuffle steam into brown grass
while curlews cry the sun to rest.
A Horseman
https://www.youtube.com/edit?o=U&video_id=V9rXOdSslKA
Just watching the Magnificent Seven again,
Seen it many times of course,
Yul Brynner and Steve Mc Queen,
Two horsemen a sitting their horses,
When horse and man move as one,
You know, these are men that can ride,
Old drovers could tell in a heartbeat,
Yes it’s a matter of pride,
For when you have lived in the saddle,
And you feel the beat of his heart,
Your horse does carry you gladly,
gets a grip, like your only sweetheart ,
but my friend and I are now parted,
no longer his whinny or sigh,
but I still have his saddle,
just a horseman, a waiting to die.
Don Johnson
A horse of course
Can find the source
To whinny with
Such great force,
This force of course
Can make him hoarse,
Let's hope he doesn't
Suffer equine remorse.
My friend is known for a horsey type grin
Along with his whinny, he can run like the wind
Through fields of clover
Don't mind his odour
Just hold onto your schnoz and try not to wince
Here's one just for the fun of it!
Beau
I saw him at a show,
a handsome stallion named Beau,
horse with a high-stepping prance,
every judge he would please,
winning horse-shows was a breeze…
but he secretly wanted to dance.
“Cause a man named Bill Willy
had the most beautiful filly,
whom Beau really wished to impress…
but his insides turned to jelly,
when he got cramps in his belly,
thanks to Bill, he was now in a mess.
The filly called, “How do you do?”
A cute whinny Beau took for his cue,
then he gladly neighed back with delight.
Yes, Beau then took a chance;
just one direct gaze in her glance…
for he had dreamt of her, day and night.
Her coat was shiny and fair,
there she had the most stylish flair,
to Beau, she was a beauty quite unique.
She nearly took his breath away,
as his heart started racing that day,
although his legs were shaky and weak.
This filly was ready to dance,
so Beau started a hot romance,
though it seemed touch and go for awhile.
Beau forgot all about his prance,
he finally learned how to dance
and he was glad he’d gone that extra mile!
By tiptoe
Nine noted naughty notorious Narwhals.
Active admirable acrobat anonymous aqua mammals.
Restless rowdy racers rolling on rocky shore.
Whimsical whinny women whales whistling wonderfully.
Haughty horny huge herculean was haply harpooned.
Alarming appearance of angry arctic animals.
Legendary Sea- Urchins leaped laughed loud.
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