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Poems On / About HORSE  4/25/2015 5:55:08 AM
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Were I A Horse

A balding man my hair is gray decades ago it was brown
Were I a horse I'm sure by now that I would have been put down
I feel so very stiff and old father time is catching up on me
And I for one don't fear life's end what is to be will be.

I was not any good at sports I cannot dance and sing
I'm just your average ordinary bloke not much good at anything
They say only the good die young and I still linger on
And better people by far than I deceased, forgotten and gone.

Were I a horse I'd have been put down that may seem crude to say
But that's what happens to most horses when they have had their day
Most horses save for the lucky few not allowed to grow old and die
I feel grateful to be still around more living I'll enjoy.

Were I a horse I'd have been put down for dog or cat food maybe
The knacker takes the worn out horse the Reaper will claim me
The years on me begin to tell my fastest pace is slow
And I was in the prime of life some thirty years ago.
Francis Duggan

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The Przewalski Horse

The last true wild horses of Planet Earth of them it has been said
Of stocky build with dark brown mane and coloured brown to red
Przewalski's horse it is their name in the wild state now quite rare
In the Gobi desert years ago they were seen everywhere.

'Tis said they were discovered by the Russian Naturalist Nikolai Przewalski in eighteen seventy nine
The last wild horses it is said of an unmixed blood line
In the Mongolian Gobi desert they have not been seen for years perhaps extinct in the wild state
Those who breed them in captivity save them from a far worse fate.

Long before the historic conquests of the immortal Genghis Khan
Przewalski's horses lived in the Gobi desert independent of man
But for the increase in the human population wildlife always give way
And the Mongolian wild horses only bred in zoos today.

In Mongolia in the Gobi Desert where they once ranged wild and free
The horses known as Przewalski one unlikely for to see
A captive breeding program has saved them from extinction though endangered they remain
And in the vast Gobi Desert they may never be seen again.
Francis Duggan

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Of Horses And Flies

A fly had ventured from his nest
and flew (of course) then came to rest
upon the tailbone of a horse.
And with considerable force
he pushed his stinger through the hide
which promptly ended up inside.
The horse, whose tolerance of pain
was governed by an oblong brain,
a horse, that much is widely known
is born without a funny bone
It follows that a horse may cry
when bitten by a nasty fly.
The fly, whose cousins own the dunny
inflicts his germs and thinks it funny
when bits of half-digested dung
infect the spot where he has stung.
Though in the case of any horse
it matters little since, of course
a horse makes, on command, vaccine
which brings resistance to the scene.
Thus horses won't, upon reflection,
pick up a Coliform infection,
which pleases me (you may ask why)
but tell me, why the horse would cry!
A horse will cry at times, of course
due to the fly's lack of remorse.
Which does intensify the pain
I hope I've made this subject plain.
Since stings make horses jump and wince
you'll never see a horse that grins.
You may consider this quite silly
but think about it, as a filly
a horse soon meets the dreaded fly
he suffers, as the years go by
and stores the thought inside his head
that flies would better off be dead.
And if, the Gods in the hereafter
outlawed all flies we'd hear the laughter
of horses just as now and then
a nicker sound comes from the pen.
This is a soft and pleasant sound
containing vowels that are round.
But if you hear them whinny-ing
you know they're thinking of the sting
and of the time when God will boil
all flies in holy Hyssop oil.
All mammals then will celebrate
the new and blessed stingless state
and will, in gratitude endorse
the king of critters, yes the horse.
Herbert Nehrlich

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Double Pleasure

Everyone loves a two for one deal
Expecially a two horse layout view
For it has a beginning and the end
Where double pleasure becomes true

My deal starts with the first horse
Signaling a good start for my day
Then it ends with a second horse
And I would want it no other way
John McCornack

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Poems On / About HORSE