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Poems On / About HORSE  6/30/2015 3:17:56 AM
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Deceitful Nag Profits

horse references
processed packaged
rough shod dues

an equestrian flesh nay
to horse meat sold today
as prime prestige beef

horse meat scandal
horse sold as beef
scheme driven profit

beef is selling at a high premium
enter herd hoof trackless consortium
black market mafia pony delirium

a rat does not look like a cat
a horse does not look like a cow
identity mistake excuse is bird

cheap is horse meat
someone is scooping
nag profits deceitful
Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light)

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Old Roy

He was a flea bitten gray with white mane and tail,
Weighed about nine fifty and free as a gale
He was the best horse that I ever rode
Whether working cattle or riding down the road.

He was work horse when I started working on the Ranch.
He was seven years old and, boy, could he run and prance!
I asked, "Could I ride Him? He looks like saddle stock to me."
The boss said "Go right ahead. It's all right with me."

Old Roy was so gentle with those great big, soft brown eyes.
For a little horse he was muscled, good muscles on his thighs.
He had good withers on his back, just right to fit my old rack.
He never was foolish, for speed just give him a little slack.

He was my best mount, for about eight years or so.
Then the Boss sold the Ranch out -- how I hated to see him go.
I sure wanted to by him, but now he was getting old.
I was short on money, so I wiped the tears and let him go.

If there's horses in Heaven, Old Roy will sure be there.
I've rode a lot of horses since, but none can near compare.
Fifty years ago they sold him, no other could take his place.
He was the greatest horse, the best of the Equestrian race.
Marvin Carnagey

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Read more: horse poems, money poems, work poems, heaven poems, running poems



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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Poems On / About HORSE