Favorite horse poems
I thought i would make this topic where everyone could post their favorite poems about horses. I would love to hear them. Also favorite country songs.
The Runaway by Robert Frost (famous American poet)
Once when the snow of the year was beginning to fall,
We stopped by a mountain pasture to say 'Whose colt?'
A little Morgan had one forefoot on the wall,
The other curled at his breast. He dipped his head
And snorted at us. And then he had to bolt.
We heard the miniature thunder where he fled,
And we saw him, or thought we saw him, dim and grey,
Like a shadow against the curtain of falling flakes.
'I think the little fellow's afraid of the snow.
He isn't winter-broken. It isn't play
With the little fellow at all. He's running away.
I doubt if even his mother could tell him, "Sakes,
It's only weather". He'd think she didn't know !
Where is his mother? He can't be out alone.'
And now he comes again with a clatter of stone
And mounts the wall again with whited eyes
And all his tail that isn't hair up straight.
He shudders his coat as if to throw off flies.
'Whoever it is that leaves him out so late,
When other creatures have gone to stall and bin,
Ought to be told to come and take him in.'
The Poetry of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems, Complete and Unabridged, (NY: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1979) p. 223.
"Croppie the Cowhorse"
He wasn't big, not big in size
But he had the heart of a lion
No not big, but a horse, all horse
Who would either do or die a trying
A little sorrel with both ears cropped
He'd lost them in a freeze
He'd buck sometimes, just for fun
Just to stir up a breeze
I broke him in as a four year old
And did we have some fun
Before our fights were over,
He had several notches on his gun.
But soon he learned some faith in me
As I kinda learned his ways.
Then he learned about the cows
An' those were some happy days.
I say he learned, cause he had sense
He just naturally knew a cow.
Just show him once, thats all it took
An' then he savvied how.
Like one time we roped in a rodeo
Though in front of a crowd I'm shy
We capped the money, through my fool luck
And Croppie's knowing why.
The boy's all wanted to trade for him
Even the boss hisself.
But I told him if you take him,
You'll lose this cowboy, Alf.
The boss, he knowed the cowboy's way
He kinda grinned and said
"The only time I'll get that hoss,
I reckon is when you're dead."
So time rocked on, and Croppie and me
Worked many a roundup through.
An' when it came his turn to work,
He did his job true blue.
'Til came the day the boss sent some of us cowhands
To gather some salty wild old steers
Out of the big badlands.
Well Croppie an' me, we jumped a steer
Wild as a black tailed deer.
And down the mountain, with us on his tail
The steer was runnin wild with fear.
We was gaining on him, an' I was building a loop
When Croppie hit a soft spot,
An' we rolled down the hill like a hoop.
Well, all I got was scratches
And a bump on my head like an egg.
But when I looked a Croppie, he had a busted leg.
I put my arms around him,
I thought my heart would break.
An' Croppie, I knew, was hurtin'
Cause I could feel him shiver an' shake.
I knew it was an act of mercy,
But with a heart still sick and sore.
All I could say was "Goodbye old pard"
Then the report of a .44.
The boys declared it a holiday
To bury this little cow horse,
Top horse of the outfit, sure enough
From wrangler all the way up to boss.
As they threw the sod over top of him,
Out there in the open air
Ol' Deacon Bob, he up an' says
"I think I'll say a prayer."
He bowed his head and cleared his throat
Sorta wiped his eyes and said
"Dear boss of the starry ranges,
Take care of this little cow hoss.
He died performing his duties,
And we all sure feel his loss.
Please put him on good feed an' water
up there on your starry range.
An' give him some cowhorse buddies
So the place won't seem so strange.
For this kinda hoss must have a heaven,
The same as there is for men.
Just let him run, or graze, or rest.
Take care of him God. Amen."
Maybe the vet will say "But he was only a horse,
Only an animal. He had no soul."
How do we know he had no soul,
We know he had brains and nerve.
He could do almost everything but talk
An' was always willing to serve.
Now I think when I ride my last roundup
An' cross that great divide,
That old Croppie horse will be waiting there
To take me for a ride.
An' when I saddle up and step aboard,
I know he'll just stand there.
With a humped up back and a look in his eye
That says "Touch me if you dare"
But I'll know him an' he'll know me
We'll know its just in fun.
He'll buck a little easy like,
And then cut loose and run.
Maybe we'll rope the North Star Bear
Just to strut our stuff.
Old Croppie an' me on that ol' starry range,
I think will be heaven enough.
Total Favorite Country Song done by Chris LeDoux
Wild as a coastal boranca, swift as the wind blowin' free
With two eyes like fire brands that glow in the night
Somewhere up there he's waitin' for me
And he knows that I'm coming for him
I just can't rest 'til I find
That raven black stallion, who wears no man's brand
With a wild restless spirit like mine
They call him Caballo Diablo
Half horse, half devil they say
Caballo Diablo the outlaw
At the top of Sierra Madre
Two men before tried to take him
They had their chance one by one
But each met his fate when those flashin' black hooves
Brought death 'neath the Mexican sun
Still I can't leave I must find him
You fool of a horse can't you see
I may be half man, but the other half's devil
And you're just exactly like me
Even the breeze has stopped movin'
Hush now - be still
Don't make a sound and stay close to the ground
Cause he's waitin' just over that hill
Downwind behind him move quickly
Do it fast now, he's startin' to stir
Grab a hand full of mane then a palm to his back
And start raking him down with my spurs
But try as he will he can't shake me
As over the precipice we go
To spill the like blood of a horse and a man
On the rocky Sierra below
The Bell tolls for Thee
One bell is rung to wake the world
Two bells to announce a filly's birth
Three bells show a champion unfurled
Four bells shout out the filly's worth
Five bells announce a race is start
Six bells show a race hard pressed
Seven bells reveals a bay did win
The eighth bell tolls a loud distress
The filly is down and all looks grim
With heavy heart we say our byes.
A brilliant run a flash of grey
Pounding hooves striding free
A starry bridge that led the way
A place where each can truly be
A Derby winner and much more.
Bob Nolan, Skyball Paint
Sons of the Pioneers, Song Folio #1
American Music, Inc., 1936
Who else learned this one at camp?
Old Sky Ball Paint was a devilís saint,
His eyes were a fiery red.
Good men have tried this horse to ride
And all of them are dead.
Now I wonít brag but I rode this nag
Till his blood began to boil.
Then I hit the ground and ate three pound
Of good old western soil.
Singiní hi ho, whoopee ti yo,
Ride him high and down you go,
Sons of the western soil.
I swore, by heck, Iíd break his neck
For the jolt he gave my pride.
I threw my noose on that old cayuse
And once more took a ride.
He turned around and soon I found
His head where his tail should be
So I sez, sez I, perhaps heís shy
Or he just donít care for me.
In town one day I chanced to stray
Upon old Sheriff Jim.
For a whoop and a holler and a counterfeit dollar
I sold the nag to him.
But when he plants the seat of his pants
In Sky Ballís leather chair,
Iíll bet four bits when Sky Ball quits
That Jim will not be there.
You can actually listen to a recording of Bob Nolan singing the song, pretty cool!
the horse next door
the horse next door has feet like frisbees
and a sorry-dog head with eyes full of worries
the horse next door is a big teddy bear
look up and hes there with his nose in your hair
i've thought of horses shining in the sun
handsome, with manes flying as they run
i've dreamed of horses with dancing feet
the kind of horse a girl likes to meet
and what have i got? a big clumsy pet
who wants his mommy, whos scared of the vet
but that's okay i know thw score
i'm in love with the horse next door
. . . i like i cause its my horse exactly like my horse . . . down to the button
I found this poem online and thought it would be one that others could appreciate. The author said the following:
"I wrote this poem when I was in high school. I had a black colt that broke a leg and had to be put down. I wrote so many poems for him, it was the best way I knew to express my grief." ~DaisyKJ
Lines To A Wild Black Mustang
Black, but beautiful...your eyes and your soul;
Your lusterless coat has a likeness to coal.
Pose for me there before you depart,
And I'll paint your fair picture on my lonely heart.
Beneath your dull hide, the mud, and the flies,
There's the unconquered spirit I see through your eyes.
You'd like to be running on your small unkempt hooves
In the hills of the desert that your soul still loves.
Well, run to your haven, for it's there you belong,
Where the wind in your long shaggy mane is a song.
Go, my Black Ugly! You're beauty, to me.
And take my heart with you, let me too, be free.
To tame you would lame you, so run then, run then!
And I here will linger....lonely again.
I found this in a magazine some years ago, and it sticks in my mind:
The Pony Ring, author unknown
I looked and I looked but I never found,
On the spring-sweet grass, on the clovery ground
A sign of the ring where the ponies ran,
Lucky and Princess and Ginger and Dan.
Around and around in a circle enchanted,
We rocked to the canter and rose to the trot,
While the sun beamed mild, beat yellow and hot
And the grass was all pounded and trampled away --
But that was another, a happier day.
And I in white hat and rumpled suit,
My car-keys dangling, a white glove gone --
Silly in the sunshine, crying like that!
Silly to sigh for a vanished spring --
Four lost ponies and a grass-covered ring...
This is not complete; I seem to remember something about "Nor one rusty horse-shoe to prove where they ran..." If anyone has the whole thing, won't you please post the rest? Thanks!
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