En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Ranchers Ride That Was Given

I fell like a horse that
has just been let in the stall for the night
as day turns to dusk

my limbs are week
eye lids are getting heavy
as I wipe the sweat from my eyes
my horse comes running up to me signaling
he wants me to come ride
I only have ten bails left
why not take a break

I jumped onto his back
instantly feeling the massive creatures
huge muscles
underneath my body
I grab his mane
off we go
floating in the wind
like a butterfly on a
beautiful July morning

racing up and down
hills
throw meadows
and streams
just letting him take me away

he slows down
I grab around his neck
for I know what he’s going to do
sure enough he stops
get’s on both knee’s
lets me down to the ground

as I lay there barley awake
he lay next to me
as if he was to guard me while I sleep
he’s only a horse
I’m only a person
his name is Bandit
mine is Becca
but he is my guardian angel
and I’m just the keeper

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Between My Horse's Wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As I ride over the ocean and sea
My muscles tense as I hold
My skin red from the windy cold
Flowing past the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
I revel in this dangerous ecstasy
A silvery mane blows in my face
Blown back, by the wind we race
Born on by the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As we fly through the air swiftly
My face is lifted toward the sky
Arms outstretched, wind rushing by
The beating of the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
Faster and faster, we seem to fly
The wind tugging at my body
As I look to the heavenly bodies
Shining on the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse’s wings

poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Troy

I’ve been counting down the days to
see the shoeing of my beautiful horse
bandit
he has bad feet because
he was run hard in barrel racing
and put away wet
by the people who owned him before I did
I was taking my last ride on him
for the week
or that’s what I thought
at 3pm troy drove up
I told him all the angles he needed to shoe
my baby
I let him be and do his thing
I came back a hour latter see how he was doing
and to offer some water
cause of
the kind hearted person I am
he said I may have to stay off bandit for a while
I didn’t think that meant
A WHOLE YEAR
that man messed bandit’s feet up so bad that now
I couldn’t ride him for a year
it wasn’t fair to bandit he didn’t do anything
to deserve a whole year of pain
It wasn’t fair to me either cause
that is one of the strongest way to build your confidence up
and bond with your horse
I love riding horses
I have 11 other horses
I have to ride on a normal day
but bandit is my baby
and my best friend
and when you mess with my friends
you’ve crossed the line
but when you’ve messed with my horse
if I could I’ll screw over your life
cause when you do that you’ve gone way to far
y’all
my horse is my best friend
my companion
my bond for life
my everything
why my horse troy
why bandit
why troy

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Between My Horse's Wings (Expanded)

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As I ride over the ocean and sea
My muscles tense as I hold
My skin red from the windy cold
Flowing past the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
I revel in this dangerous ecstasy
A silvery mane blows in my face
Blown back, by the wind we race
Born on by the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As we fly through the air swiftly
My face is lifted toward the sky
Arms outstretched, wind rushing by
The beating of the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
Faster and faster, we seem to fly
The wind tugging at my body
As I look to the heavenly bodies
Shining on the horse’s wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse’s wings

poem by Ivy Schex
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

High Horse

Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
And get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Moonlit shadow, she starts a trippin' firelight
Jumpin' the trees lyin' across the right of way
Silvery mornin' it glistens down the valley
But she don't stop 'til we ride the night away
Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
Get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Blonde braids tangle at the misty break of mornin'
Catchin' light through a dusty window pane
Lost in lust, in denial of the warnin'
She digs her heels in this stallion's flank again
Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
Get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Get up on your high horse, woman
You paid the price, you get to play
Get up on your high horse, woman
You're gonna ride to the break of day
To the break of day
To the break of day
To the break of day
Get up on your high horse, woman
Get up on your high horse now
Get up on your high horse, woman
I'll make it up to you somehow
Get up on your high horse, woman
You paid the price, you get to play
Get up on your high horse, woman
You're gonna ride to the break of day

song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Horse For Dinner

A horse A horse
My kingdom for a horse,
A horse A horse
For the main course

Muscles of might
Pulled so tight,
A body of organs
All for a meal

Why a horse?
Why not a deer?
A horse does the work,
A deer will just peer

A horse is strong
a deer has no uses,
so there for a deer
suffers the abuses

Condemned is a deer
as from the day it's born,
until the day it dies
and its meaty flesh torn

So why a horse
if a deer has no uses?
because I am a man
Who too, has suffered too many abuses

poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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 Ivy Schex
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Ride My Horse II

Sunlight...
I feel the sun
Warm on my skin
Shining on me
As I ride my horse

Wind…
I feel the wind
Combing my hair
Flowing past me
As I ride my horse

Sky…
I see the sky
Open above me
Calling to me
As I ride my horse

Grass…
I see the grass
All around me
Surrounding me
As I ride my horse

poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Verses On Night And Day

In the forest at night
my good old horse
has lost his way.

His head nods sleepily –
perhaps he dreams
of fields green by day.

The owls are hooting,
the night is cold,
the ground is hard,

but all night long
my good old horse
will stand his guard.

Daylight will come
to light the woods
at break of day,

and at that time
my horse will know
to find the way.

The night and darkness
are as nothing
to my old horse,

for he knows to wait
as time shall pass, and life
shall take its course.

poem by Rory Hudson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Wishing I Was a Horse

I wish I could be a horse
running through endless plain
No trails and no set course
Feeling naught but wind in my mane
From the sunrise in the east
To the sunset in the west
I will run as a noble beast
While heart pounding in my chest
No man or force will ever tame me
No saddle or bridle shall I wear
As a horse I will remain free
Because as a man I feel despair
So I sit and dream about this freedom
of running through the sun and the rain
of being noble yet bound to no kingdom
As a horse with a spirit not slain

poem by Glaedr the poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Between My Horse's Wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse's wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse's wings

Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse's wings

poem by Ivy Schex
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Ride My Horse

I feel the wind
I hear the birds
I ride my horse
As I sing words

I see the grass
I feel the leather
I ride my horse
Upon the heather

I taste the dust
I see the heat
I ride my horse
To his own beat

I feel the joy
I taste the fun
I ride my horse
Into the yellow sun

poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Red Dirt Cowgirl

Nature grows the weeds and grasses
The wind whips the horse's mane.
They travel, horse and a pretty cowgirl
Through a land that starts with Maine

There is no trail that they follow
No red dirt roads to be seen
Here they travel, horse and rider
Upon the endless fields of green

Is this real, or is this make believe
The horse glides on through the night
Searching ever searching for red dirt
With a neon moon providing the only light

Is this real, or is this make believe
Will a red dirt road become a reality
We look toward the western sky
And feel the sweat as the wind rushes by

There on a distance horizon... Wow!
Is that fabulous red dirt road ever so proud
Just across a few more fields and streams
Is that ultimate answer to our many dreams

poem by John McCornack
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Dream of Horses II

When I lay down to sleep
Visions of running horses,
In my slumber so deep,
Gallop through my mind

I dream of running my hand
Through the silky mane
Fingertips feeling every strand
Of that long black hair

I picture myself on his back
My face pressed into his neck
The wind pulling my hair back
As the dream goes on…

poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Bare-Back Rider (A Lucid Dream)

He was a stallion
A big black horse, I was
Astride his back, muscular, bare
Hanging on to mere tufts
of his shiny black hair

I don’t know how I got there
It seemed like a dream
Me on this big horse galloping
through a dark forest thick with trees
with gnarly branches reaching for me

Terrified I crouch as low as I can
Try to grip the horse’s flesh
but I couldn't so I hold on
to his mane for dear life
and with a prayer I close my eyes
Don’t throw me off
Don’t let this forest take me
Don't leave me here
This nightmare will devour me

Please go slow dear horse
Don't stumble and fall
Be careful of the rocks
And branches hanging low

But he would not go slow, oh no!
He was on a mission
To where I didn’t know
I had no choice but to hold on
Clinging for my life
Praying the branches won’t
Hit him in the eyes

So I stay there like that, eyes shut
My body as close to to his as I could get
My face pressed to his neck
I cry, wracked with fear
Certain I would die right there

After a while, after what seemed like ages
And nothing happening
Only the sound of hoofs
and the wind whipping
I suddenly realize...

This horse is bigger than me
If the branches don’t hit him
How can they hit me
He is not afraid of the dark
If he's not afraid of dying
Why should I be

Slowly I sit upright
Slowly I open my eyes
The scenery had changed
The rider and the horse are now
One and the same

poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

There's Another Blessed Horse Fell Down

When you're lying in your hammock, sleeping soft and sleeping sound,
Without a care or trouble on your mind,
And there's nothing to disturb you but the engines going round,
And you're dreaming of the girl you left behind;
In the middle of your joys you'll be wakened by a noise
And a clatter on the deck above your crown,
And you'll head the corporal shout as he turns the picket out,
"There's another blessed horse fell down."
You can see 'em in the morning, when you're cleaning out the stall,
A-leaning on the railings nearly dead,
And you reckon by the evening they'll be pretty sure to fall;
And you curse them as you tumble into bed.
Oh, you'll hear it pretty soon, "Pass the word for Denny Moon,
There's a horse here throwing handsprings like a clown;"
And it's shove the others back, or he'll cripple half the pack;
"There's another blessed horse fell down."

And when the war is over and the fighting is all done,
And you're all at home with medals on your chest,
And you've learnt to sleep so soundly that the firing of a gun
At your bedside wouldn't rob you of your rest;
As you lay in slumber deep, if your wife walks in her sleep,
And tumbles down the stairs and breaks her crown,
Oh, it won't awaken you, for you'll say, "It's nothing new,
It's another blessed horse fell down."

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!