HORSE POEMS

         The Horse
by John Anthony Davies

I saw a child who could not walk,
sit on a horse, laugh and talk.
Then ride it through a field of daisies
And yet he could not walk unaided.

I saw a child, no legs below,
sit on a horse and make it go
through woods of green and places he had never been
to sit and stare, except for a chair.

I saw a child who could only crawl,
mount a horse and sit up tall;
then put it through a degree of paces
and laugh a the wonder in our faces.

I saw a child born into strife,
take up and hold the reins of life.
And that same child, was heard to say,
thank God for showing me the way.....

      Voudon - Mounting the Horse
      by Julie Shiel

  She dances magic to the pounding of the drums as they beat in pulsing rhythm with her African heart.
  The blood of sacrifice runs over her darkly sheened skin soaked in sweat, and shining beauty in the flickering of fire, as her body sways
in snaking time with her vodoun trance.
She screams with the ecstasy of
worlds exploding, overlapping, as Damballah communes through divine possession,  and speaks the sacred language of the Serpent.
  She becomes the loa, mounted by the holy God of waters, as she hisses his wisdom  to the rainbow devout, and spins circles  of purity with  gossamer prophesy.

         

       My horse's name is Jessie.
When he is in his stall it can get messy. I think he is a really sweet horse. I never have to ride with much force. He runs around, And puts holes in the ground. He can go really fast, This way he will never get last. I have owned him for more than a year. He has never shed a tear. He loves to go on a trail, And help me get the mail.  When he is bad I call him Bessie. This is the end of my poem about my horse Jessie.

      The American Quarter Horse

He's half a ton of poised and controlled energy, held on an easy rein and a hair trigger.

He's a workin' man who can earn his keep on the ranch all week? and be a handsome dandy at the track on Sunday afternoon.

He's proud when he stands; looks lazy when he walks? but when he runs he can whip the tears from the corners of your eyes and plaster
your hat brim against the crown.

He's big in the haunches, supple in the withers, stout in the neck and wide across the chest? to hold his great heart.

He's cow smart and brave, though sometimes a clown, and to the man with sky in his eye and mud on his boots, the American Quarter
Horse is a faithful hand? and a friend.
     FREIGHT TRAIN
by Hilma (Volcano) Volk

Freight Train was a coal black hoss,
Big and smart and bold. On this ranch he was the boss. Had every trick down cold. Weren't no fence could keep him in, Could open any gate. With Houdini he was kin. 'Bout that was no debate. He had a sense of humor though, Least so it seemed to me. He'd sneak out at night  And enjoy himself a spree. He might steal a jacket from the shed And leave it in a tree, Or scare the jeebers out of Fred When he went outside to pee.
There'd be strange noises out the door Too dark to tell what's there. What to do, we weren't sure. Was it Freight Train or a bear? Freight Train liked to sneak around In Midnight camouflage' Leave our laundry on the ground And hoof prints on the Dodge. Sometimes I'd go out in the morn To fetch and put him back.        Been out all night (I'd have sworn) That Freight Train steed of black. But he'd be grazing with the rest, As sweetly as can be. 'Cept we both knew he'd got the best Of my old Fred and me.
         My horse By Mally, Amanda

   MY HORSE My horse is white. She is small in height. She runs with pride When she goes to hide. Her mane and tail fly As she runs nearby. She watches over the others Just like her grandmothers. She   stands very calm As I put out my palm. She eats the grain Or she would have no gain. Sometimes she prances As people do dances. As I watch them, They seem to gleam. She stands like a rose, Standing in a pose. She whinnies in a soft way To see if I will find the hay. She is a beautiful horse As she runs the jumping course. For I am proud of her; She is my Arabian.

   

   HORSE
Thou art truly
A Creature
Without equal,
For thou
Fliest without wings
And conquers
Without sword

-By The Kovan

     MY PONY -by Elizabeth Urwin

Delicate ears pricked Intently Listening
Smooth black coat Shinning Glistening
Long black tail High and Flowing
Small round hooves that look like new
That's my pony standing in the dew

 

        Don't Cry For The Horses
Don't cry for the horses that life has set free. A million white horses forever to be. Don't cry for the horses now in God's hand. As they dance and they prance in a heavenly band. They were ours as a gift, but never to keep. As they close their eyes forever to sleep. Their spirits unbound. On silver wings they fly. A million white horses against the blue sky. Look up into heaven, you'll see them above. The horses we lost, the horses we loved. Manes and tails flowing, they gallop through time. They were never yours, they were never mine.
Don't cry for the horses. They'll be back someday. When our time is gone, they will show us the way. Do you hear that soft nicker? Close to your ear?                 Don't cry for the horses. Love the ones that are here.                                                  ~Author Unknown~

My horse is brown his teeth are white,
he has a long tail, he's quite a sight. He eats grass all day, he lets out a neigh to say he's okay. I curry him down to make him bright, he lets out a toot and I die of fright!

      Running Free
      By:Maleah Fick

Golden forelock,
Golden tail,
This mare gallops
Through wind and hail
She lets out a whinny
With contentness and glee
For this mare is joyful
She's running free

 

   My Heart Is a Wild    Horse poem by Anitra L. Freeman
My heart is a wild horse.
If I rein her too hard
she fades beneath me
gives me none of her strength.
          
If I let her run free
I am lost in dark lands.
          
I approach her slowly.
She takes my scent.
I curry her with sweet grasses,
and I lean against her.
          
One day
we race across the plain
straight up the mountain
and leap into the sun.
       The Curly~ A Heavenly Gift

When the spirit of the horse was created, The Maker set aside one horse spirit to be different from all the other horses. This one was told, You will have the body of the horse but I will clothe you with the coat of the lamb, to match your gentle willing spirit. And as the lamb seeks his Shepard, you shall seek out man as  a loving loyal companion to him. You will not posses the fear of things as other horses, but I give you  heart of the lion so you will be brave & steadfast. I give you hooves of granite, bone of tempered steel
and the strength of oxen. But to mask these qualities of strength, you will carry your gentle loving heart in  a coat of curls. In the heat of summer you may loose your beautiful mane & tail and some will find you ugly and try to kill you. Yet you must seek the human out & those that see with their heart rather than only their eyes will recognize you for who you are & love you & celebrate the great gifts I have given you. The allergy afflicted will seek you out & rejoice in your special gift. Although the noblest of horses,
  you will not be the mount of kings or queens, but the mount of the common people. You see, I send all my special ones as humble sheep to live on the earth.
        When I am Old...

I shall wear turquoise And a straw cowboy hat that doesn't match and doesn't suit me. And I shall spend my social security on white wine and carrots
And sit in the alley way of my barn  And listen to my horses breathe. I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night And ride the dappled mare  Across the moonstruck meadow,  If my old bones will allow.  And when people come to call, I will smile and nod,  As I walk them past the gardens to the barn And show, instead, the flowers growing there. In stalls fresh-lined with straw I will learn to shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair as if it were a jewel. And I will be an embarrassment to my only child Who will have not yet found the peace in being free  To love a horse as a friend, A friend who waits at midnight hour With muzzle and knickers and patient eyes For the kind of person I will be When I am old.

                    Patty Barnhart
     MY HORSE -By Telifa Sloane.
Golden far and so shiny,
at first I thought you were a little tiny,
Huge brown eyes and a star so neat,
Long creamy mane and delicate feet,
Along smooth gallop and prancing walk,
Oh lord I wish you could talk!
A dream horses pace,
And a gorgeous face,
Oh you're the one for me,
You fill my hear with joy and glee,
And at the show you win for me,
Plus you jump so many obstacles so carefully,
Some people say you're only a toy
But i'm proud of you my golden boy,
You fill many heart with desire,
With coat of gold and spirit of fire,
You're not just a horse,
Your my friend of course.
       THE RIDING SCHOOL
       By Denise Clark
The smell of hay and the stable hound,
The clatter of hooves on the tarmac ground.
The creak of leather supple in the loft,
The neigh of contentment,
The whining of fright,
The variety of weight, cob, heavy or light,
The color of horses,
Chestnut , white, black, or bay,
The turning out of ponies after along hard day,
The munching of food, barely, bran, hay and oats,
The pricking ears and the shinning coats,
The sucking of water from the trough so cool,
All these things you find in a RIDING SCHOOL.

        Wild Horses
        by Susan Kosicki


The beauty and grace of horses so free,
to watch and to wonder how great it would be.
A gallant,proud stallion leading his band,
through the great mountains,across the white sand.
In the wind they will run from dangers that come,
wild horses they are until death of the sun.

 

      The Warmth Of A Horse
 
 When your day seems out of balance
 and so many things go wrong ...
 When people fight around you
 and the clock drags on so long ...
 When some folks act like children
 and fill you with remorse ...
 Go out into your pasture and wrap
 your arms around your horse.
 
 His gentle breath enfolds you as he
 watches with those eyes ...
 He may not have a PhD but he
 is,oh so wise!
 His head rests on your shoulder
 you hug him good and tight ...
 He puts your world in balance
 and makes it seem all right.
 
 Your tears will soon stop flowing,
 the tension will be eased ...
 The nonsense has been lifted.
 You are quiet and at peace.
 So when you need some balance
 from the stresses in your day ...
 The therapy you really need
 Is out there eating hay!
 

 

          The Foal

I'll lend you for a little while my grandest foal, HE said.

for you to love while he's alive and mourn when he is dead.

It may be one or twenty years, or days or months, you see,

but will you, till I take him back, take care of him for me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you, and should his stay be brief,

you'll have treasured memories as solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return,

but there are lessons taught on earth I want this foal to learn.

I've looked the wide world over In my search for teachers true.

And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes, with trust, I've chosen you.

Now will you give him total love? not think the labor vain,

nor hate me when I come here to take him back again?

I know you'll give him tenderness and love will bloom each day,

and for the happiness you've known, forever grateful stay

But should I come and call for him much sooner than you'd planned,

you'll brave the bitter grief that comes, and someday, understand,

 

       The Tennessee Walking Horse

by: Linda Byles

If you desire a saddle horse, a horse that's sure to please,

Just buy yourself a Walking Horse and ride along at ease.

You'll never have to learn to post, no acrobats required,

Just sit the saddle as you please to get the thrill desired.

Of all the horses you could ride to occupy your leisure.

Just step astride a Walking Horse and exercise with pleasure.

A Walking Horse is so polite when ridden down the street,

He nods his head with every step as if your friends to greet.

If it were in my power to name my mode of transportation,

When traveling toward those Pearly Gates would give me much elation.

I'd step astride my Walking Horse, the trip would seem much sweeter,

I'd feel refreshed, in better shape, to stand before Saint Peter.

And if he seemed to hesitate about letting me inside,

I'd just dismount, hand him the reins, and let him take a ride.

He'd grasp my hand, throw wide the gates, and say,

"Just ride on in."

      Poem by Tiffany Moss
His nostrils flare,
With noble delight,
His wide white eyes,
Full of fight.

He is a King,
With blood-red coat,
Charcoal hooves,
Upon wind he floats.

The breeze of heaven,
Flows through his mane,
He gallops through my heart,
And back again.

 

            ~~Hug Your Horse~~~

When your day seems out of balance and so many things go wrong,

when people fight around you and the day drags on so long,

when parents act like children, in-laws make you think "Divorce",

go out in your pasture... wrap your arms around your horse.

His gentle breath enfolds you and he watches with those eyes.

He may not have a PhD, but he is oh, so wise!

His head rests on your shoulder. You embrace him oh so tight.

He puts your world in balance, and makes it seem all right.

Your tears will soon stop flowing. The tension is now eased.

The garbage has been lifted, and you're quiet and at peace.

So when you need the balance from circumstances in your day,

the best therapy that you can seek is out there eating hay!!

         Wild Black Mare
         by Jessica Fankhauser

Dust was kicked into the air
then there was a glimpse
of a wild black mare

Her stallion can be seen
anywhere she goes
together they run
nose by nose

Shes big and bulky
hes wide and tall
they rear up high
with no problem at all

Then the dust settles
back to the ground
the mare and her stallion
are no where to be found

 

I

 

I wrote this poem about my first Morgan in 1992 after I put her down

To Lady Caprie, (Jaunty Joe x Lady Baron)

Red-headed she was with white markings, Born free with a royal heritage, Bred by a sister traded for another, Sold to be a western pleasure horse, Returned for non-payment and returned to familiar surroundings, Roamed with the Cotton Hill Morgans and became fat and sleek,

A gift horse given to a fearful woman, A miracle with four legs and a tail, Truly a special Morgan mare, My companion, friend, life-saver and love, She became all these but not all at once.

She arrived with another in June of 1975 to a destination 2200 miles from her birthplace, To a new home this green broke mare came, to one who couldn't believe this was happening, She fulfilled a dream--a life long desire of one whose fears must be overcome, And she would be the instrument to their end.

A true lady she was on that first ride, her manners impeccable and true, Their training together began with a friend and a half hour twice a week, She was smart as a whip and responsive.

Through her owner's bad times she was always there, as a friend and companion, She offered no advice as she could not speak, She offered her owner a daily dose of therapy out of her remorse and pain and gave her something to care about.

Through the years to come we were separated many times but in the end we were together, We taught children how to ride with patience and understanding,A year before she died she fell with me and I knew in my heart she would have to leave me, I grew into that decision too and will never forget how much this little Morgan mare gave of herself for me, "Cappie will always be in my heart."

Submitted by Ruth Catlett