There’s a horse in my backyard,
Most magnificent to regard,
Black his colour, long his mane
Upon his shoulder tangling down.
Jet coat shines and muscles ripple
As he rears and prances danger.
He’s a stallion, powerfully built.
His name is Anger.
There’s another little pony,
Very lovable is this one.
Bright and sunny is her nature,
White and gold her bristling colour.
As everybody’s favourite choice,
She works the long, extended hours,
But overworked, she has a voice!
She is Compassion.
Next, the pinto comes for breakfast,
Trotting sweetly to the repast,
Tough and wiry, head tossed gaily,
Snorting, stamping, propping daily,
He’s the one with his own mind,
Hard mouth, slow to understand
What is needed tags behind.
He’s called Willpower.
Can’t leave out the lovely racer,
Chestnut, and the red lights lace her!
Most eye-catching, charged, and ready,
Whipping round upon a penny,
Found where other horses run,
She’ll toss you off if she thinks she can,
Ever dancing in the sun.
Dependency.
There are many steeds at stable
In my backyard. I am able
To learn to manage every one
Under tuition of the Son.
Jealousy, Envy, Hope and Fear
Are some of the others that I hold dear.
Each has its place and each its task
And each its sting.
For the rider who is highly skilled,
And has his mounts all daily drilled,
Will play life’s game of polo well.
His coach will keep him on the ball.
And every horse will become his friend,
Learn good manners, when to stretch,
When to pull and twist and send
The ball to goal!
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
There’s a horse in my backyard,
Most magnificent to regard,
Black his colour, long his mane
Upon his shoulder tangling down.
Jet coat shines and muscles ripple
As he rears and prances danger.
He’s a stallion, powerfully built.
His name is Anger.
There’s another little pony,
Very lovable is this one.
Bright and sunny is her nature,
White and gold her bristling colour.
As everybody’s favourite choice,
She works the long, extended hours,
But overworked, she has a voice!
She is Compassion.
Next, the pinto comes for breakfast,
Trotting sweetly to the repast,
Tough and wiry, head tossed gaily,
Snorting, stamping, propping daily,
He’s the one with his own mind,
Hard mouth, slow to understand
What is needed tags behind.
He’s called Willpower.
Can’t leave out the lovely racer,
Chestnut, and the red lights lace her!
Most eye-catching, charged, and ready,
Whipping round upon a penny,
Found where other horses run,
She’ll toss you off if she thinks she can,
Ever dancing in the sun.
Dependency.
There are many steeds at stable
In my backyard. I am able
To learn to manage every one
Under tuition of the Son.
Jealousy, Envy, Hope and Fear
Are some of the others that I hold dear.
Each has its place and each its task
And each its sting.
For the rider who is highly skilled,
And has his mounts all daily drilled,
Will play life’s game of polo well.
His coach will keep him on the ball.
And every horse will become his friend,
Learn good manners, when to stretch,
When to pull and twist and send
The ball to goal!
This was one of the first of my poems inspired by years of telephone ministry and discovering that people have no idea what to do with their emotions. I think emotions are like horses - powerful, it's no good starving them in the back paddock, and you can,t let them run the show because they'll dump you, wipe you out under a tree, bolt with you, squash you against the barbed-wire fence - unless you can ride. Then you have a wonderful, powerful partnership. It's a case of learning to ride them.