On one stormy winter morning
On one stormy winter morning,
I walked along Blouberg’s beach
and out of the soft falling rain
a figure on a horse appeared
coming out of the fog
and riding from the sea
to land.
The waves crushed with
all their might,
but nothing could touch
that rider and its horse.
There was more
than a mere man
and animal locked to that scene
and shallow water
hanged in a spray
and wet sand and seaweed
flew away
when the hooves
found solid ground.
Just for a moment
the horseman looked me in the eye
and integrity and bravery
was etched deep
into his face.
I could hear the great horse breathing
before they turned
and with speed
went back into the sea,
where far away
the mast of a sinking sailing ship
went up and down
in enormous waves.
[Reference: The heroic story of Wolraad Woltemade.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brown Horses
The brownness of a rider and his horse carried his horse,
A major and great horsemanship approached the brown horse.
There was magnetism, speech of behaviour, with the horseman
Who was riding his animal of great pleasurableness.
To please this pleasure was great, but the riding housed a rider
Who had spectators looking in this and that direction.
An insect was a smaller kind of animal, housing a rider,
But animals like horses of brown worked hard and fast,
Too praiseworthy, in a gamble, far too important and big.
The brown horses had shadows with the hospitals,
A novel became written of them, of their health and waists.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Me & My Horse
riding together,
you and your horse.
as you run against the wind all you call hear is-
the wind wipping your ears,
the horse's hooves thundering beneath you,
the chains of your bit as the horse pulls against the reins,
and the faint sound of the horse behind you.
your horse stops,
the horse behind you catches up.
the race is over,
freedom will have to wait until next time.
poem by Horse Lover
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Horse and Rider
The prairie blows the grasses
And whips the horse’s mane.
They travel, horse and rider,
Through the sea of amber grain
Hills roll by, and clouds pass
But steady are the horse’s hooves
Upon the wind blown grass
As they travel, horse and rider
There is no trail that they follow
No path that can be seen
There they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless blowing green
poem by Horse Poet
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Horse and Rider
The prairie blows the grasses
And whips the horse’s mane.
They travel, horse and rider,
Through the sea of amber grain
Hills roll by, and clouds pass
But steady are the horse’s hooves
Upon the wind blown grass
As they travel, horse and rider
There is no trail that they follow
No path that can be seen
There they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless blowing green
Solid Shadow
Through the black blood stained helmet,
He swung his agile horse in a charge
And that was where they met.
The horse of Solid Shadow.
Though his horse was small
He was untouched by the quickest
With his speed, there was no room to stall.
The horse of Solid Shadow.
He marveled at the tiny beast,
In a matter of seconds,
The shadow was released.
From frown to horror.
To their deaths men fell,
Hearing only the pound of hooves
Men bent down and knelt,
To no avail of the Solid Shadow.
The Horse That I Am Riding
then finally, the horse that i am riding,
the black one with long hair and
long feet, flying without wings,
speed nearing the speed of light,
has taken the lead, and the rest follow
tirelessly still,
i do not look back,
i do not beat the horse with a stick
i keep on riding making the horse
feel confident that i am still
supporting its cause, to be first,
to be famous
and then my horse wins,
the owner gets the real buck,
and i the jockey,
merely receives a little name
and a little commission.
the horse gets nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Of A Friend
Walking on the tiny tan rocks of the sand. Looking for my brown soft horse. Running to my brown soft horse. Leaping on the back of the brown horse. Holding tight while my horse rides. Throwed the tan sand. The ocean breeze flows through my redish brownish hair. Comming closer to the forrest. I leaped off my horse. Walking close to my horse. While we enter the forrest. Moving my hand out touching the rough brown branches of the trees. Walking around the forrest. Getting losted. I'm alone sitting on the dirt. Tears falling from my face.
poem by Christina Weinke
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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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Earth Is...
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
And when it flew through the universe.
It didn't make a sound...
As it moved so quick with speed.
And when it flew through the universe.
It wasn't without those far viewed planets we see.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
And when it flew through the universe.
It didn't make a sound...
As it moved so quick with speed.
And when it flew through the universe.
It wasn't without those far viewed planets we see.
Earth is...
What's inside you,
And me!
Earth is...
What's inside you,
And me!
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
Earth is...
What's inside you,
And me!
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
Earth is...
What's inside you,
And me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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A Fork in the Road
A fork in the road
A choice to be made
A prayer on the lips
Which way to go?
A cowboy on his horse
A blue sky overhead
A decision to make
To trust God or not?
A man riding the plains
A horse underneath
Pondering this question
“Is it enough for me? ”
A rider on his knees
A horse stands behind
A soul is now saved
Let all heaven rejoice!
poem by Horse Poet
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Dark Man
I was in deep, profound sleep,
Suddenly, I heard a quick knock.
I got up and rubbed my eyes.
And oh! it was a great shock!
In thin darkness, I saw a horse-rider,
stood near my semi-dark door.
Who are you and whom do you come for?
'I came crossing the ocean's shore,
to take you there, to king's court.'
The thunderbolt voice replied, then.
Out of sheer fear, I reclined to go.
'I'm at my days end, nothing to gain-'
Told I but, no reply from his end came.
He turned back, and signaled to follow.
Mesmerized I leaving everything
rode on the horse, and bore the wallop.
How long the horse galloped,
I could not tell you all...
The night fell to days lap,
and at last the waning moon did fall.
I heard the sound of ocean's tide,
stopped the horse on its coast!
We, got down from the horse's back-
I saw his mouth's part most.
He was death, and none else,
the dark man took my hand...
A boat came, sailed us away from
the shore lagging behind dust and sand
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Give Way
I know a man from Lancashire
who had a horse and cart for hire.
The horse was old but the cart is strong,
somehow together they didn't belong.
When they became one there was a change,
Ears went up, whip in the tail, snap the riegns.
They came to a bridge, it looked a little weak
As they crossed, it hobbled, tapped and creaked.
The wooden bridge was small and norrow
not to long, but only room for one to pass.
Towards them flapped a little brown sparrow,
horse thinks, no way he's makin me into an ass.
The old horse snorted and put his head down,
nothing would stop them getting to town.
Said the horse: ' no one's gettin in my way'
Then the little sparrow flew up, got out the way.
Hovering above watching everything,
just like a slow motion scene.
The sparrow saw the horse
fly through the trucks screen.
P.S. We used a proffessional stunt horse, he is Ok.
poem by David Darbyshire
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A Horse Is A Horse
A horse is a horse and a man is a man
And neither can be the other
And each can survive but is much better
In the company of one another.
And while a horse is a horse and that is true
A horse is but a beast
As a cow is a cow, some ask how
On its flesh we should not feast?
For they do so in France as in other places
And I don't know how they can
For while a horse is a horse and is only a horse
It is less a cow than it is a man!
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
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Mary's Gators
Mary had a little horse
the horse was just a pony,
the horse had hooves and balls of course
but ate no maccaroni.
She led the horse back to her flat
they took the elevator,
at night the horse slept on a mat
next to an alligator.
As you can tell, this lady had
a screw loose in her bonnet,
she wasn't altogether bad
that's why I write no sonnet.
A sonnet would be all too clear
and show hat she was mental,
but she was really such a dear,
we'll call it accidental.
The horse grew slowly, as they do
the gator did much faster,
one day, it did, out of the blue
it happened. A disaster.
The gator ate the horse at lunch
and had a pudding later.
Don't know for sure but have a hunch,
she bought another gator.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Just a Horse
From time to time,
People tell me 'lighten up, it's just a horse.'
From time to time
People tell me, ' a lot of money spent'
From time to time
People tell me, 'it's just a horse.'
If you really think it's
'Just a horse, '
Like 'just a promise, '
'Just a friend, '
Than you can't see
The beauty of it all.
You just can't see.
The distance traveled,
The time spent,
And the costs involved for
'Just a horse.'
The reason to rise,
Early in the morning,
Taking those long walks,
Even when it's pouring.
It's my proudest moments,
My only company,
The saddest moments,
And the gentle touch,
That gave me a reason to go on.
It's the hopes and dreams,
And the coming of the future.
The fond memories of the past,
And the unforgettable joy of the coming day.
So...
If you really think it's,
'Just a horse, '
Like 'just a promise, '
'Just a friend, '
Than you can't see,
The beauty of it all.
You just can't see.
'Just a horse'
Brings out the best in me,
'Just a horse'
It gives me who I am and
Keeping me from being,
'Just a girl.'
'Just a woman'
'Just another passing being'
I'll smile and nod to agree,
knowing deep down I don't.
you may think it's 'just a horse, '
but it never will be for me.
If you really think it's,
'Just a horse, '
Like 'just a promise, '
'Just a friend, '
Than you can't see,
The beauty of it all.
You just can't see.
poem by Jess Schwarcz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heroin
Death is a rider on a pale horse, Honey.
Yah roll up your sleeve and yah lay down your money.
Death is a rider on a pale horse.
A cord around your arm and the needle hunts your vein.
You'll starve in your dreams with the lotus in your brain.
Death is a rider on a pale horse.
There's blood in your eyes, and your time's not free.
Selling it like that will get yah HIV.
Death is a rider on a pale horse.
Death is a rider on a pale horse, Honey.
Yah roll up your sleeve and yah lay down your money.
Ya, death is a rider on a pale horse.
A White Horse Of The Most Magical Kind
She rode a white horse,
rode it for sanity;
galloped and cantered
with rhythmic consistency,
walked for a while
along glistening streams
and trotted through dark woods
with the darkest of dreams.
Bridled with a need to express
she rode east and rode west,
never stopping or ceasing her quest,
until she reached
the most beautiful shore,
of a beach of white sand
with a moon in the sky
that reached with its moonlight
into her heart, that had cried.
She dismounted the horse
and danced on the sands
with stars in her eyes;
pure love in her hands.
She looked at her horse
praised it and said
'a horse such as you
is a magical find
a horse that's named poetry
is the most wonderful kind.'
poem by David Taylor
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At a pan at night
In the dark night I hear horse hoofs
coming on thundering
and there are sparks
bursting from the quartz rocks.
In the sky
there’s a sickle moon
and the hairs
on my arms raise
while blue thunder
fall like shots around me
and I can smell fire and sulphur
on the wind.
For a moment
while a church bell
rings of midnight in the distance,
there’s a horse standing neighing
on its back feet.
Just one look
frightens me past being awake
when another lightning bolt
strikes down next to us
and a horse
with a man without head
passes me at great speed.
In the distance at a ruin
I see an old woman in white
with a shrill voice
cutting through the night.
“Can nothing stop you
Jan van der Meer? ”
[Reference: Die ruiter van skimmelperdpan by A.G. Visser. A legend from the second Anglo-Boer war.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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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”