Sharing Poetry

I don't always like to read poetry unless I read about it first - but I do write poetry once in a while. I re-read it a year so later and decide if it makes sense. If it does - I call it good and if it doesn't I wait a few more years and try again. If the second time it reads dumb or poorly written or meaningless - I toss it. Once in a while I have a keeper that each time I read it - the application or nuances increase in value to me - so I declare it good.

Here is one of my favorites - because I use the imagery of one of my favorite things. It has many applications - personal awareness, temptations of infidelity, the loss of your young daughter to adulthood and how it feels to you, or just what you see is what you get - protecting your beautiful pet from the change that happens once the horse has had the opportunity to foal. When that happens, the mare may not returns to that sense of freedom and innocent passion for the wind and the ride and for that fear you want to protect her. Hope you like it too.

THE FOAL

My foal promenades the corral,
And like a sail in a hurricane her mane whips the wind.
The passion in her eyes belies her lighthearted prance.
Her beauty, her innocence I must defend.

From the stable I beckon her "Come!"
Sweet oats to assuage her; she halts. She quivers her flank.
What beckons her beyond my gates of harbor and home?
"She's going to leap." My heart sank!

When did I lose her? No time for assessments,
She knows not what lies in the mirage of ecstasy she senses.
Have I not endowed her with abundant provision?
My boundaries her security, seem now only fences.

"Steady Girl!" My warning scatters under hoofs;
With a virgin lunge she chases the whinnies of the wind beyond.
Unbridled, untamed, naïve - and I unprepared
For the pain of forever reaving our bond.

A lasso, a sugar, a ruse I will plan.
Before tempest’s lusty stallion seduces her virtue
And salacity awakened she gallops like a gale.
Finally I grasped her tho' she restively withdrew.

I reassure her with whispers through the gates.
She neighs a shudder and cantors away, tenuous, her fidelity.
I must keep constant watch for now her eyes will be
Always on the wind that whinnies temptingly!