Horse Poems, Quotes & Jokes

My beautiful! my beautiful!
That standeth meekly by
With thy proud arch’d and glossy neck,
And dark and fiery eye;
The stranger hath thy bridle-rein,
Thy master hath his gold;
Fleet limbed and beautiful, farewell;
Thou’rt sold; my steed, thou’rt sold.

Posted by Don.

(Please enjoy personally-not for commercial use)Who needs Adventure in Moving?
Down that road we all have been.
Easy to pack up a suitcase or three
But how do you pack a round pen?

Do you shop for a virgin ten acres
to build on, to plot and to plan,
Or for a turn-key operation
Before loading up the moving van?

If you are of urban persuasion
Do you give up your taxi and bus
For the prairie and cactus and rock fields
And the rollicking tumbleweed bush?

Are your horses so used to their box stalls
That they turn up their noses and squeal
At the thought of the wide open spaces,
“No way, man, nope, not me, no deal!”

Or do your horses prefer their free pasture
And down to each filly and colt
Do they run from the thought of a stable
Secured with doors, lock and bolt?

Are you used to your chore line, your routine,
You can buck hay and water blindfolded,
Thus the thought of new mud ‘neath your muck boots
Does not make your heart enbolded?

Like birds of a feather who all flock together
We like our nests tidy and neat
And it’s scary to move ‘cross the country or state
Or even the next county seat.

Gypsies, Bedouins, nomads
Had no one to show them the way.
They packed up their camels, their yurts and their carts
And never once called AAA.

When Tschiffley said, “Farewell, Argentina,
This ride’s not a walk on the beach”,
He saddled up Gato and Mancha,
New York 10,000 miles to reach.

Think how, when you go on a trail ride,
You stuff all your saddlebags deep
With the things you will need on the journey
Whether bridle path or mountain steep.

And lord knows when you pack for a horse show,
Trunks, bales, boxes, your nerves on the brink,
You leave out the extra spare browband
To make room for the kitchen sink.

So good luck to all who are moving,
Have moved, might move and will,
That wherever your journeys may take you
Your horses will be with you still.

Though you leave all familiar behind you,
Say good-bye and set out on the roam,
When you bed down your Morgans in new digs
That is the place you’ll call “home”.

Posted by Debbie.