He that seeks a horse or a wife without fault, has neither steed in his stable nor angel in his bed.
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Stable the steed, and put your wife to bed when there's night wark to do.
Him My Wild Horse...I, the Chosen to Fly on HIS RIDE!
Eye Drop his translated name
In Portuguese just 'Pingo'
My Dearest Horse for so many rides we joined
Him, my brother, his horse and I
“Pingo” supposedly
'The Little Daddy's Boy's Horse'
But my brother he would drop
And scared the little boy was,
forever no horses he would ride...
Of “Pingo” he was afraid.
None’s to be on fault
The horse’s translated name was “Drop”
But truly just meant to join for a Gallop
'The Little Daddy's Boy afraid...
My Dad mad...No fun for me
YES! Let’s Swap!
There it was, all resolved.
'Pingo' forever now My Wild Horse
My brother and I on a run
My Dad Happy laud and proud
'Go Little Son', and all happy we were
Pingo and I, my brother and his friendly new horse
Following the horse tracks
Wild and Free, there we were
For our remarkable back horse rides
So what about the “Drop”?
Pingo and I jointly on flight no time to play
Any other act, Let’s Run My Wild Horse!
poem by Florida Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Horse To Outrun
A horse is sent to outrun the rollers with wheels,
A pin and needle can be a horse, but they are animals.
Stones are thrown on the bleeding wounds,
Heaven shines its odours on them to bind.
The wheels spin, to collect a dust of ruined historical measures,
Wheels indeed spin around to outrun the steed,
To make it abandon, but the battle is never-ending.
Eat the green goose, for it is cherished for its taste,
After the race is won by the rollers with wheels.
If the horse triumphs then exaltation is not possible,
Wheels are to oppress the horse or steed
To make it bleed and to crush its very head and neck.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I Wish I Was A Heavenly Angel
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would watch and protect mankind
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must play in my own kind
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would pray for those in sorrow
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must suffer the torment of borrow
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would worship my god day and night
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight for my own right
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would always cling to my sword
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight the pain of my fault
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would never no tiredness
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must till the land to grow in abundance
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would weep when man sin
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must pray for my own sin so dire
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would shore endlessly in space
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must check as I walk in pace
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would wonder around this world free
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must stand still as a tree
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For my heart shall always be in joy
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must behave just like a boy
poem by Samuel Donkor
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Corn Medicine
'A well-bred horse! but he won't get fat,
Though I've done the best 1 can;
He keeps as poor as a blessed rat!'
Said the sorrowful stable-man.
'I've bled and I've blistered him-and to-day
I bought him a monster ball;
But, blow the horse! let me do what 1 may,
He won't get fat at all.
'I've given him medicines galore,
And linseed oil and bran,
And yet the brute looks awfully poor,'
Said the woebegone stable-man.
One glance the intelligent stranger threw
At the ribs of the hollow weed,
Then asked, with an innocent air, 'Did you
Forget to give him a feed?'
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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Sonnet: Piggy-back Ride
Yes, children enjoy a piggy-back ride!
The father as horse and mother beside;
The thrilled little ones just simply enjoy,
And mock at the horse while laughing with joy.
Giddap! Giddap! They goad the horse faster;
Today, they are the jockey and the master!
And then the horse must dance well to their tune,
Slowly, gracefully and speed up too, soon.
Sometimes, the horse is just compelled to neigh!
Shaking its head for the entire day;
No doubt, the act gets troublesome indeed;
Until taken to the ‘stable’ to feed.
At times, children can the wildest horse tame!
But, condescension’s, the key to the game.
poem by John Celes
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Horseshoe
Maya, the lovelorn lass in the stable who spends the whole life
with a hobble horse as a hobby until she became a hoary woman.
One day the stallion said goodbye to her.
But still she hears its sorrowful neigh.
The cruel life hoaxed up to her death bed.
Now she rest in peace behind the stable in the horse's grave.
The Blacksmith's beautiful daughter who carries a horseshoe at all.
The teacher questioned her in the Sunday school.
'Where do you come from Maya? '
'I am staying behind the horsewoman's graveyard' She replied.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Lock the stable door before the steed is stolen.
When the steed is stolen, you shut the stable door.
Quhen the Steed is stoon, steik the stable-door.
The dark knight
He gallops into town
With nothing but his dagger and horse
He sits upon that horse
With a back as straight as a stone wall
Faster than a man's eye could detect
In one swift movement
He unmounts his mighty steed
Grabs out his dagger
With such graceful movement
He began to maul
With such stealth that's unlike any human beings'
He demolishes the small village
After looking around
Making sure everything was still and dead
He mounts his fearless steed
And canters away from the demolished village
With a frightening yet gorgeous smile upon his pale face
He begins to whistle an old tune
As if nothing had ever happened
poem by Storm Pedersen
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The Lesson From The Horse Race
There's no such thing as gallant loser and there's no glory in defeat
And coming first is all that matter and victory is always sweet
For the winning horse and jockey there's a mighty hip hooray
And the jockey he is smiling victory has made his day.
The stable lad leads in his winner he has never known such joy
And the owner pats his race horse as if to say well done me boy
And there's applause for the winning trainer from the large onlooking crowd
And the horse is centre of attention and those who backed him clapping loud.
Near by stands the beaten favourite held there by his stable lad
And with no trace of the horse's owner and the trainer looking sad
In a thrilling photo finish beaten into second place
But he get little recognition for running such a splendid race.
Human life is like the horse race at winning post you've got to lead
Losers are quickly forgotten and to be loved you must succeed
You must strive hard for your glory and if you fail in your vital test
You too will be quick forgotten as winners are remembered best
And there's a lesson from the horse race and it read plain for all to see
If you live for admiration go for outright victory
And you will be the main attraction and all the applause will be for you
And like the poor defeated race horse there will be none for number two.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It is too late to lock the stable door when the steed is stolen.
Dutch, French proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just a Horse
A friend died recently
Our hearts filled with remorse
Some may not understand
They’ll say, “He was just a horse”
Broke his heart to sell Apache
But when Dad died he was forced
Three hundred and fifty dollars
“If you want just a horse”
For my daughter, a new chapter
In her growing up course
Her heart and eyes burned bright
Yet, “he was just a horse”
In the arena, through the poles
Riding natures own source
Mounted on her lithe steed
“Yes, he was just a horse”
A queen in the parade
With a crown and sash, of course
Riding regally through the cheering crowd
Noble and proud, “but just a horse”
In the corral or just around the pasture
Listening to her gentle discourse
Love applied with a curry brush
For an animal “who was just a horse”
God created all the animals
Before he created man in due course
Gave humanity all his best
God’s own plan, but “never just a horse”
What is a Horse?
What is a horse?
A horse has eyes as dainty as a mink.
The grace is interrupted merely by a blink.
A horse is beauty.
What is a horse?
A horse is a tree in a storm that never goes down.
A horse is a weathered rock that stays around.
A horse is ancient.
What is a horse?
A horse waltzes like breeze over rivers.
She curvets and leaps like rain shivers.
A horse is a marionette.
What is a horse?
A horse is determination, that never stops flowing.
A horse is fondness, that never stops growing.
A horse is poetic power.
poem by Lily Whittaker
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Robert The Horse
Robert the horse you are a very old horse
You owner feeds you every day
Carrots and apples
You love carrots and apples
Rober the horse
It is too cold to go out
And if you go out you might even die
Robert the hore
It is better for you to stay in your stable
That is in the basement of a house
poem by Aldo Kraas
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I am an Angel
i am an angel,
with no wings;
i am an angel,
that has a sad song, but cannot sing.
i am an angel,
that in silience, i cry;
i am an angel,
that tells lies.
i am an angel,
with no halo;
i am an angel,
that lays low.
i am an angel,
that has an extra hand;
i am an angel,
that tries to care for everyone that i can.
i am an angel,
that steals;
i am an angel,
that has a broken heart that never healed.
i am an angel,
with some love to give;
i am an angel,
that sometimes, doesn't want to live.
i am an angel,
that wants to be;
i am an angel,
that wants to leave.
i am an angel,
that has a secret past;
i will always be an angel,
even though i sometimes move fast.
poem by Ariel Sampson
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Oh Yes I Love My Horse
Oh yes I love my horse,
and my horse she doth love me.
Riding o'er the countryside,
beneath me my trusty steed.
We ride fast through sunny days,
for my little mare always enjoys to play.
She may buck and she may rear,
but never has anything been so dear;
As the horse I cherish,
and know oneday shall perish.
I enjoy each moment that we get,
always pulling gently on her bit.
For my horse is my kin,
not to be purchased by any bid.
For as a young girl I slept by her side,
willing to battle any that would cut our tie.
So for now we frolick merrily,
each day together a special rarity.
Until the day the good Lord calls her up,
and I must find solace in her son.
poem by Kayla Lonkard
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You're better off betting on a horse than betting on a man. A horse may not be able to hold you tight, but he doesn't wanna wander from the stable at night.
quote by Betty Grable
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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