THE HORSE IN MY BRUSH
Cathe Ferguson
January 2009
I took my mare out for a ride;
the thrill I felt can't be described,
for who can put to words a thrill
and explain its pleasantries at will?
I ran my hand through her thick hide;
the thrill I felt can't be denied,
yet, though I tried, I could not tell
for mere words don't express it well.
So I went home to paint and brush
and mixed sienna, bay, and blush,
then painted hoof and mane and tail,
and winds to blow along the trail--
I painted turns on supple haunches,
pasterns, and the hock that launches
jingling shanks and creaking leather,
and riding days of perfect weather.
I took the shade of stable gray
and painted restful hooves in hay
and mixed the hue of oat and weed
to add the crunch and smell of feed.
When I was through my painting neighed
and at least a thousand pounds it weighed!
Life's scented breath was in its nose
and now my thrill the world knows--!
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Comments3
the majesty of refrained Power
exemplified by almost every horse
is amazing to witness, every time
such, graceful creatures..
thanks for sharing
your poetry reminds me of an Ada Limon poem, titled
'How to triumph like a Girl':
(
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/149814/how-to-triumph-like-a-girl
)
Thank you for sharing your sentiments. I appreciate your adding this poem to your list of favorites! That is, indeed, a welcome compliment!
A painting that comes alive! And whose subject is the majestic equine nonetheless. Thanks for sharing. /Rik.
You're welcome!
Very nice, thanks Richard
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