Horse Poems | Poemist

Popular Horse Poems

A Prodigal

by Elizabeth Bishop

The brown enormous odor he lived by
was too close, with its breathing and thick hair,
for him to judge. The floor was rotten; the sty
was plastered halfway up with glass-smooth dung.
Light-lashed, self-righteous, above moving snouts,
the pigs' eyes followed him, a cheerful stare--
even to the sow that always ate her young--
till, sickening, he leaned to scratch her head.
But sometimes mornings after drinking bouts
(he hid the pints behind the two-by-fours),

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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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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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The Ballad Of Father Gilligan

by William Butler Yeats

The old priest Peter Gilligan
Was weary night and day
For half his flock were in their beds
Or under green sods lay.

Once, while he nodded in a chair
At the moth-hour of the eve
Another poor man sent for him,
And he began to grieve.

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The Man From Snowy River

by Banjo Paterson

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses - he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.

There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,

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Recent Horse Poems

Far Rockaway

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Though little Suzie was wild about horses, she was too young to ride,
At just five golden years old. Like summer faded, where nature sighed.

Playful Suzie longed to visit Banbury Cross, a place she had not been.
Her older siblings told exciting tales of it, like spring, alive with green!

For Little Suzie's birthday, her parents had given her a rocking horse;
And it was a prized possession, which she played with daily, of course.

As today came closer to someday, she'd visit countless places far away.

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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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