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Horses Makes You Happy

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
And you think they will get a divorce
Go to the field
And hug your horse

Your horse calms you down
Makes you feel more happier
The gentle breath
With one little tear
Dragging from your face

When you look at him
Look at his eyes
He will be happy
You will a have a big surprise! ! !

His head rests on your shoulder
you groomed him good and tight
He puts your world in balance
and makes it seem all right.

Your tears will soon stop flowing,
The sadness is now ended.
The garbage has been lifted
you’ll be quiet and at peace.

So when you need the balance
go to your horse each day
The best happiness you can seek
is out there chomping on hay!

poem by Karen Weimorts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Things To Be Balanced

Balance my heart between fast and slow beating rate,
Balance my wealth between the pauper and the rich state,
Balance my food between malnourished and overeating,
Balance my thought between weird and super serene.

Balance the car tyres to get aligned,
Balance the budget without any deficit,
Balance the love for the work and the family,
Balance the time between the recreations and duties.

Lord, Balance my posture of attitude at the altitude,
Balance my temperamental words when in multitude,
Balance the balance of deeds, on the judgment day,
by adding some good deeds or removing something bad.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As I Sit Upon My Horse

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the field
A field of rippling grass
Blowing in the wind

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the sky
A clear blue sky
Filled with clouds

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the sun
A yellow sun up high
Shining on my face

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at this world
A world fashioned,
Created by my God

poem by Horse Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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There Is No Balance On A See-Saw

It's hard to balance on a see-saw.
When one goes up...
Someone's on the ground,
And...
Not sitting stuck.
They know when to rise up.

There is no balance on a see-saw.
None at all.
Even if two got off.
Even if they both got off.

People are always seeking equalness,
When there's no weight.
People are always seeking something...
But they lack the patience.
They don't think when someone is down,
That may keep one off the ground.
With a looking around in the air,
But one on a see-saw...
Will not in the air,
Stay there!

There is no balance on a see-saw.
None at all.
One may see what the other saw.
One may see what the other saw.

There is no balance on a see-saw.
None at all.
One may see what the other saw.
One may see what the other saw.

There is no balance on a see-saw.
None at all.
Even if they both got off.
Even if they both got off.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night Shade

I finally got the horse I prayed about
He is beautiful without a doubt.
The last two days he brought me nothing but joy.
Even though he's big he's my baby boy.
He's starting to like me and follow me around,
He speaks to my heart without making a sound
I love him so much and with all of my heart.
He's so loving and gentle we never will part.
He's with me even when he is not there.
Because he is my horse and that makes him rare.
We have a friendship of love and trust
He makes me so happy that I could just bust.
I would never leave or beat him of course
And I just thank God for NIGHT SHADE my horse.

poem by Wanda Henderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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I Sit Upon My Horse

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the field
A field of rippling grass
Blowing in the wind

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the sky
A clear blue sky
Filled with clouds

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at the sun
A yellow sun up high
Shining on my face

I sit upon my horse
And gaze at this world
A world fashioned,
Created by my God

poem by Ivy Schex
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Champion Horse

Thousands of people greet the best horse in the field.
It runs so fast yet easily though not four-wheeled.
Its speed is higher than the wind and bird in the sky.
Sometimes it neighs on the grass; sometimes it looks so shy.
Is it the son of the famous horse owned by the king?
Its excellent performance makes all horse owners awing.
It wins many open events in an easy way.
Leaving his good name in the racing world today.

Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems

http: //poem.bestfd.com/bbs/forum.php? mod=viewthread&tid=12101&extra=page%3D1

poem by Charles WOO
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
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My Horse And Me

I LOVE MY HORSE AND I'LL TELL YOU WHY
HE'S THE BEST HORSE AROUND AND THAT IS NO LIE
HE'S TOUGH AND SMART AND ALWAYS DOES THE RIGHT THING
WHATEVER I ASK AND RIDES LIKE A DREAM

HE'S NOT THE BIGGEST HORSE IN THE BARN
HE'S KIND OF LAID BACK, LIKE HE DOESN'T GIVE A DARN
HE'S PRETTY, NO DOUBT, BUT THAT ISN'T WHAT SHOWS
IT'S HIS HEART THAT'S SO BIG, THAT IT OVERFLOWS

I KNOW WHAT HE'S THINKING THOUGH HE CAN'T SAY THE WORDS
HE'S LISTENED TO ME WHEN I NEEDED TO BE HEARD
HE'S AS LOYAL A FRIEND AS I'VE EVER HAD
ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE ME AND NEVER MAKES ME FEEL BAD

HE TRUSTS ME WITH HIS LIFE, AND I TRUST HIM WITH MINE
IT'S A BOND THAT'S NEVER BROKEN, AND GET'S STRONGER WITH TIME
WHEN WE'RE ON THE TRAIL, THERE'S NO BETTER PLACE TO BE
THAN ENJOYING THE WOODS, JUST MY HORSE AND ME

poem by Kathleen West
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Black Tom

My dad sold black Tom our old work-horse when he had known a better day
But what happened to him after that I do not know for to say
Suppose he was slaughtered for dog meat few work-horses of old age do die
To say that all work-horses become children pets would be telling a lie
Any way old black Tom would never have been any good as a child's pet
A few nips he gave to me I never will forget
Old Tom he was surely not gentle or quiet
And given the opportunity he surely would bite
Five out of ten for him would seem a fair score
He was a good work-horse that and nothing more
Not the finest equine west of Millstreet Town
For Tom the old rogue horse no such a renown
He was sold to a horse dealer more than three decades ago
And what happened to him after I cannot say I do know.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghost Song

An old man and an old horse moved slowly and steadily
towards the furthest mountain.
An old man on an old horse.
The old man thought of the many times he'd been thrown;
the old horse, how many times he'd been ridden.
They weren't in no great rush.
The old man sat straight in the saddle, head held high.
The old horse kept his head high too,
letting his feet choose the way as they
searched the clouds looking for any old friends
they had passed on the way.
A soft gentle rain started to fall,
the horse stopped, the old man bent over
and stroked his friend's neck

poem by William Mendelson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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