Horse Poems | Poemist

Popular Horse Poems

Fern Hill

by Dylan Thomas

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

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Myself And Mine

by Walt Whitman

MYSELF and mine gymnastic ever,
To stand the cold or heat--to take good aim with a gun--to sail a
boat--to manage horses--to beget superb children,
To speak readily and clearly--to feel at home among common people,
And to hold our own in terrible positions, on land and sea.

Not for an embroiderer;
(There will always be plenty of embroiderers--I welcome them also;)
But for the fibre of things, and for inherent men and women.

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Mulga Bill's Bicycle

by Banjo Paterson

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything, as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.

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Gentlemen-Rankers

by Rudyard Kipling

To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned,
To my brethren in their sorrow overseas,
Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed,
And a trooper of the Empress, if you please.
Yea, a trooper of the forces who has run his own six horses,
And faith he went the pace and went it blind,
And the world was more than kin while he held the ready tin,
But to-day the Sergeant's something less than kind.
We're poor little lambs who've lost our way,
Baa! Baa! Baa!

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Untitled

by Mario William Vitale

There’s all kinds of people in this world
Tall, short, black, and white. There’s all kinds of people in the world.
Take a good look around you and you’ll see! The march of the crowd can leave you mixed up and senseless. Barn doors open and the horse is coming out. Leave the car keys alone!
The time for chatter is over. It’s going to be a good day. Think positive!
Moon glow over Miami and the time is right to walk and see the beauty that lurks in the night.
New England is wet and the stores are crowded. Birds fly overhead and droppings can be found if you look hard enough. There’s a picture that hangs on my wall of a little boy playing with a ball.
The mountains surround our town and trees that flow through the breeze. Basking in the sunshine on a mid summer’s day.

Recent Horse Poems

Spirit of the Wind

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

spirit is his name
racing through field or meadow
he loves to run free

in the times of blooms
in the saffron colored dawns
or red sunset dusk

for apples he comes
and you can ride like the wind

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The Horse

by Khayelihle Bongiswa Gamedze

One question I have now is this;
What kind of creature the horse is?
An animal who is exultant of his strength
And the brightness of his rustling mane.
Who made the horse to run so fast?
Who caused it to leap like a locust?
Who made it not to fear the harness and the saddle?
Who made it not to fear the harshness of the battle?
He is not shaken by the sharpness of the spear,
I seldom know an animal who laughs at fear.

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My Rock Away Horse-Nursery Rhyme

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

I got a rocking horse for my birthday;
And my new horse is magic and special!
When we're alone, it rocks me far away;
But my colt is very gentle and careful.

My magic horse, flies me to fun places.
One night, it rocked me off to the moon!
We've seen the world and so many faces,
And we'll both be traveling again soon.

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All Mules Matter

by Jeffrey Pipes Guice

I’m not a horse…
I am a mule…
I’m not a donkey…
You silly fool…

I’ll let you in on a secret…
My dad is a donkey and my momma’s a horse…
But I love dem both just da same…
And dey love me back, of course…

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May Day

by Sara Teasdale

The shining line of motors,
The swaying motor-bus,
The prancing dancing horses
Are passing by for us.

The sunlight on the steeple,
The toys we stop to see,
The smiling passing people
Are all for you and me.

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