Horse poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best horse poems ever written. Read all poems about horse.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
...
'Is there anybody there? ' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grass
Of the forest's ferny floor;
...
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
...
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his later meal:
...
Where is the Jim Crow section
On this merry-go-round,
Mister, cause I want to ride?
Down South where I come from
...
Deep in the man sits fast his fate
To mould his fortunes, mean or great:
Unknown to Cromwell as to me
Was Cromwell's measure or degree;
...
I shall die, but
that is all that I shall do for Death.
I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;
I hear the clatter on the barn-floor.
...
My father worked with a horse-plough,
His shoulders globed like a full sail strung
Between the shafts and the furrow.
The horse strained at his clicking tongue.
...
Strange fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
...
But, lo! from forth a copse that neighbours by,
A breeding jennet, lusty, young, and proud,
Adonis' trampling courser doth espy,
And forth she rushes, snorts and neighs aloud;
...
The beautiful, the fair, the elegant,
Is that which pleases us, says Kant,
Without a thought of interest or advantage.
...
Until tonight they were separate specialties,
different stories, the best of their own worst.
Riding my warm cabin home, I remember Betsy's
laughter; she laughed as you did, Rose, at the first
...
Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen
...
There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses - he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
...
I worked for a woman,
She wasn't mean--
But she had a twelve-room
House to clean.
...
He had drifted in among us as a straw drifts with the tide,
He was just a wand'ring mongrel from the weary world outside;
He was not aristocratic, being mostly ribs and hair,
With a hint of spaniel parents and a touch of native bear.
...
My pants could maybe fall down when I dive off the diving board.
My nose could maybe keep growing and never quit.
Miss Brearly could ask me to spell words like stomach and special.
(Stumick and speshul?)
...
I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all
this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one
discovers in
...
(My student, thrown by a horse)
I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;
And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile;
...
I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
...
It had been a long idyllic two-day ride from Taos to Jackson Hole. The bike had been running well, in spite of the altitude, and the 1600 C.C. Yamaha Venture Royale handled with ease whatever the mountains had in store.
This was the second extended tour for Kurt and his twelve-year-old son, Trystan, who everyone called T.C. (Trystan Colin) . They had started in Long Beach, California, and were making a long semi-circular loop through Arizona, New Mexico, and then back to Wyoming. After hiking and riding through Grand Teton National Park, they would head North through Yellowstone to Missoula Montana and ultimately reach their final northern destination — Glacier National Park.
...
Chapter 13: An Uncertain Trail
Cutty was once again headed down a trail with an uncertain end. He didn't feel good about the riders ahead or what their true intentions were. Jimmy had said: "They are probably cowboys from the Bar Circle T Ranch, " but he had only been guessing.
He charged up the rapidly darkening trail…
...
(Stage Opens) .
Man- What Pleasure has been derived as i am all set to enjoy a Horseride.
(A Horse Approaches the Man) .
Did you mean Enjoyment or did i overheard Torment.
...
.
.
If the horse has been dead for 10 years- Dismount
.
...
A Dead Horse
Dakota tribal wisdom says that when you discover you are riding a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount.However, in management, many try other strategies with dead horses, including the following:
...
The Horse Said to the Donkey.
'' A Warm Welcome to my Brother
To work hard rarely does he bother.''
...
Jack Came Home in a Nervous Mood.
Jack screamed at himselves in a Lamenting Voice.
...
So I turn you into a horse but you are jealous of that horse.
& so you've chosen to die.
Or rather: the horse will not
not be skinned. There. {There.} Feel better. Next year
I'll teach you to swim & you'll carry us north
for wintertime.
So I turn you into
a horse, a water horse, with sealskin & steely
fins that never tire, but still you are jealous
of some distant & parched mire
wanting to bury me
in a rusted flask.
Wanting all my bare skin
skunned in wineflesh.
As proof
of first horse-&-human debt,
unborn seed
far away from smokeless winter
chimney & singed
evergreen
kickedstraight
to the curb.
& even if we'd return
{minutes} before the world's end, still
I'd turn you into a horse who would die
dying for the music.
Underneath ivory
tabernacle, under holy child.
& still you lament the tusk
warped into wings,
the horns hammered for organ keys.
& now you're a songless thing tearing through
the middle of this horse, who(m) if I don't finish,
will be left swimming
in loose folds of ocean
for eternity
—so I turn you into a horse
& you say the ice is not a place for sacrifice.
So I turn you into {a horse} & you say: turn me
into a drop of rain & I swear by the skun
of our sins you& I
will never see land again.
...
There was a Rich man Named Edilson. Edilson was Fond of Horses. He Would Participate in Horse
Races.
Edilson Came Across an Advertisement.
...
Writing a poem is not about bringing some words together to create some charming sentences. It's so much deeper than that. Writing poetry is a bridge that allows people to express their feelings and make others live every single word they read. Poetry is to educate people, to lead them away from hate to love, from violence to mercy and pity. Writing poetry is to help this community better understand life and live it more passionately. PoemHunter.com contains an enormous number of famous poems from all over the world, by both classical and modern poets. You can read as many as you want, and also submit your own poems to share your writings with all our poets, members, and visitors.