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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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The Horse Trader

I traded for a horse one time
He wouldn't take no beauty prize
A great big long-eared blue roan gelding
Not too bad fore weight and size
I had to make some tough old circles
And this trader guaranteed
This horse would show me lots of country
And not need too much rest or feed

He said, "Now this here ain't no kids horse
But he'll pack you up the creek
He will bump up on some occasions
And he has been known to kick
I wouldn't trade him just to anyone
Without having some remorse
But if yer a shore enough cow puncher
Mister, he's yer kinda of horse

I stepped on that horse the next mornin'
He began to buck and bawl

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poem by Kendra Tyler
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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,

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poem by Charles Churchill
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Father Riley's Horse

'Twas the horse thief, Andy Regan, that was hunted like a dog
By the troopers of the upper Murray side,
They had searched in every gully -- they had looked in every log,
But never sight or track of him they spied,
Till the priest at Kiley's Crossing heard a knocking very late
And a whisper "Father Riley -- come across!"
So his Rev'rence in pyjamas trotted softly to the gate
And admitted Andy Regan -- and a horse!
"Now, it's listen, Father Riley, to the words I've got to say,
For it's close upon my death I am tonight.
With the troopers hard behind me I've been hiding all the day
In the gullies keeping close and out of sight.
But they're watching all the ranges till there's not a bird could fly,
And I'm fairly worn to pieces with the strife,
So I'm taking no more trouble, but I'm going home to die,
'Tis the only way I see to save my life.

"Yes, I'm making home to mother's, and I'll die o' Tuesday next
An' be buried on the Thursday -- and, of course,
I'm prepared to meet my penance, but with one thing I'm perplexed

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poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Rockin' Horse

Guy Allison, Keith Knudsen
EarthWalk Music (ASCAP) K-KUAD Music (ASCAP)
Take me back to an easy life,
Robin Hood and Marian,
A lone ranger on a silver horse.
Make believe in a box of sand,
Bang, bang, we all fall down.
Just about dinner time
I'm eatin' bullets. Come on Fury - take me for a ride.
Rocking Horse. Rocking Horse
Rocking Horse. Rocking Horse
Sun down with a chorus girl,
Ragtime and whiskey pour.
Midnight in a rented room
With a key inside the bedroom door.
Bang, bang, we all fall down.
Just about out of my mind.
Come on Lily. Come on honey - take me for a ride.
Rocking Horse. Rocking Horse
Rocking Horse. Rocking Horse

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song performed by Doobie Brothers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Polyhymnia

[Polyhymnia: Describing, The honourable Triumph at Tylt,
before her Maiestie, on the 17. of Nouember, last past,
being the first day of the three and thirtith yeare of
her Highnesse raigne. With Sir Henrie Lea, his resignation
of honour at Tylt, to her Maiestie, and receiued by the right
honourable, the Earle of Cumberland.]

[Polyhimnia. Entituled, with all dutie to the Right
Honourable, Lord Compton of Compton.]

Therefore, when thirtie two were come and gone,
Years of her raigne, daies of her countries peace,
Elizabeth great Empresse of the world,
Britanias Atlas, Star of Englands globe,
That swaies the massie scepter of her land,
And holdes the royall raynes of Albion:
Began the gladsome sunnie day to shine,
That drawes in length date of her golden raigne:
And thirtie three shee numbreth in her throne:

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poem by George Peele
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Pelleas And Ettarre

King Arthur made new knights to fill the gap
Left by the Holy Quest; and as he sat
In hall at old Caerleon, the high doors
Were softly sundered, and through these a youth,
Pelleas, and the sweet smell of the fields
Past, and the sunshine came along with him.

`Make me thy knight, because I know, Sir King,
All that belongs to knighthood, and I love.'
Such was his cry: for having heard the King
Had let proclaim a tournament--the prize
A golden circlet and a knightly sword,
Full fain had Pelleas for his lady won
The golden circlet, for himself the sword:
And there were those who knew him near the King,
And promised for him: and Arthur made him knight.

And this new knight, Sir Pelleas of the isles--
But lately come to his inheritance,
And lord of many a barren isle was he--

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Narrative And Dramatic The Wanderings Of Oisin

BOOK I

S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind,
With a heavy heart and a wandering mind,
Have known three centuries, poets sing,
Of dalliance with a demon thing.

Oisin. Sad to remember, sick with years,
The swift innumerable spears,
The horsemen with their floating hair,
And bowls of barley, honey, and wine,
Those merry couples dancing in tune,
And the white body that lay by mine;
But the tale, though words be lighter than air.
Must live to be old like the wandering moon.

Caoilte, and Conan, and Finn were there,
When we followed a deer with our baying hounds.
With Bran, Sceolan, and Lomair,
And passing the Firbolgs' burial-motmds,

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poem by William Butler Yeats
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A Horse Life

In a horse life.We can play with a burlap feed
bag, an empty milk jug, or chew on the barn stall
door.Just to kill some time, or to kill some every
day bordom.In a horse life.We get names like
Black Beauty, Flicka, Seabiscuit, or Secretariat.
In a horse life.We do tricks like bowing our heads
down, or placing our shoe upon a pedastool.Picking
up the cowboy hat.While tapping our feet rata-tat-tat.
In a horse life.We like a good block of salt.With lots
of minerals, to lick upon.A wholesome bale of hay.To
start off a brand new day.Or a bucket of grain.To keep
us all healthy, fat, and sane.And a fresh bucket of water,
to wash it all down.In a horse life.I could be losing a
horseshoe.While the rider is losing his mind.In a horse
life.We can be a workhorse, a race horse, or a trick pony.
Or maybe a showhorse, or possibly a circus horse.With
out all the phoney baloney.In a horse life.We can run all
day in the open sun, or run the race trak.While the betters
place their wagers.Of course, at the horse racing track
betters window.In a horse life..

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poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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The Demon Horse On The Carousel

The trucks came in with the travelling show
To the heart of our western town,
They set their tents in the twilight glow
And circled the wagons round,
While we, the boys of the neighbourhood
Were watching with minds alight,
The girls in the pearl bikini’s
Who would brave the trapeze that night!

The light sprang out of a million bulbs
In yellow and pink and green,
Lighting the booths of the grinning clowns
That you rolled a ball between,
A Carny carolled, ‘A Penny a shy! ’
And leered, with his gold-capped teeth,
Like a hungry shark at the fattest Mark,
But with eyes of a petty thief!

And then the music began to stir
Like a grind from an organ song,

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poem by David Lewis Paget
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