They called your forebears "Injun
pony." Mine "that crazy Scot!"
"Those flashy, spotted horses"...
Folk just didn't know you've got
sure feet behind the wildest stray
and heart to beat the best!
The cowboys learned it later on
with a trail drive as the test.
You've been with us, like family
down through long Texas years;
been steady throuh the hardships,
droughts and fires, floods and fears.
I grew up in your gentle shade,
warmed by your loving breath.
We taught each other trust and love
in the killing sun out west.
The herds who saw you standing guard
with me, there on your back
slept quiet. You were first to scent
a predator's attack.
I never need to look for things
to brag about. There ain't
a thing to match the pride, to say
"Grand Daddy...he raised Paint."
Author notes
http://www.normpo.com/~Eric/Sun.jpg
A contest entry
- A Horse of Another Color by apoeticinjustice.
850 points, ended March 29, 17 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Wow. That a beautifully written poem. Excellent rhyme, amazing imagery, and written with pride. Beautiful.
Write on.
~*~SP~*~
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I love a good paint horse...a wonderful story of growing up with your best friend being of the equine variety. Very well done.
Rory
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Wonderfully done! I love a painted pony. Good luck, cowboy.
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My favourite bit...
'Folk just didn't know you've got
sure feet behind the wildest stray
and heart to beat the best!'
Don't know why, Eric, but you are interesting... and your poems are too. I always wait now... for your next new one to come up on my page.
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:-)
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I love the variety of the markings on the paints, a flashy alter ego, in a way, for us mud hens.
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