Firefly Walkers. We let the Walkin do the Talkin.

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This is the poetry page.
Enjoy them, and if you have one you would like to see here,

please send me an email.

Dearest God in Heaven,

Give me the strength to guide my horse,

Make my hands soft, and my head clear.

Let my horse understand me and I her.

 

My heart you have blessed with a special love of these animals,

Let me never lose sight of it.

My soul you have gifted with a deep need for them,

Let that need never lessen.

 

Let my breath catch as the sun gleams on an elegant head,

Always let my throat tighten at the sound of a gentle nicker.

Let the scent of fresh hay and a new bag of grain always be sweet to me.

Let the warm touch of a velvety nose on my hand always bring a smile.

 

I adore the joy of a warm day on the farm,

The grace and splendor of a running horse,

The thunder of its hooves makes my eyes burn and my heart soar,

Let it always be so.

 

Dearest God grant me patience,

for horses are harnessed wind and wind can be flighty.

Let me not frighten or harm them,

instead show me ways to understand them.

 

Above all, Dear God, fill my life with them and when I pass from this world,

send my soul to no heaven without them.

For this love you have given me graces my existence,

 and I shall cherish it and praise you for it for all time.

 

Amen

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Don't cry for the horses that life has set free.
A million white horses forever to be.
Don't cry for the horses now in God's hand.
As they dance and they prance in a heavenly band.
They were ours as a gift, but never to keep.
As they close their eyes forever to sleep.
Their spirits unbound. On silver wings they fly.
A million white horses against the blue sky.
Look up into heaven, you'll see them above.
The horses we lost, the horses we loved.
Manes and tails flowing they gallop through time.
They were never yours - they were never mine.
Don't cry for the horses. They'll be back someday.
When our time is gone, they will show us the way.
Do you hear that soft nicker? Close to your ear?
Don't cry for the horses. Love the ones that are here.
~Author Unknown~

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When I am Old

I shall wear turquoise

And a straw cowboy hat that

doesn’t match and doesn’t suit me.

And I shall spend my social security

on white wine and carrots

And sit in the alley way of my barn

And listen to my horses breathe.

I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night

And ride the dappled mare

Across the moonstruck meadow,

If my old bones will allow.

And when people come to call, I will smile and nod,

As I walk them past the gardens to the barn

And show, instead, the flowers growing there.

In stalls fresh-lined with straw

I will learn to shovel and sweat and

wear hay in my hair as if it were a jewel.

And I will be an embarrassment to all

who look down on me

Who have not yet found the peace in being free

To love a horse as a friend,

A friend who waits at midnight hour

With a soft muzzle, welcome nicker and patient eyes

For this is the kind of person I will be

When I am old.

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Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When a horse dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run with the wind and enjoy the companionship of their own kind. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable; fear and worry free.

All the horses who had been ill and old are restored to health and the vigor of youth. Those who were sored, chained, hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we would want to remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The horses are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind, so long ago. In each mind there is a "someone" who was kind, gentle and loving. One someone who took the extra step, stayed the extra minute, reached out and touched with love, even once.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.
His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers.
Suddenly he begins to run from the group, galloping over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy nickering rings in your ears and a velvet muzzle,  nuzzles your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the big, trusting eyes of your special love and partner, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

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                             LADIES IN WAITING

Their hair is so long, they all look like yaks,
Covered with mud clear over their backs.
The dollars they cost, Who'd ever expect,
These ladies in waiting sure look like a wreck.
 

I'm tired of short days and chores in the dark.
I'm weary of water buckets froze like a rock.
I'm sick of the snow, the mud and the ice,
A trip to Hawaii 'bout now sounds real nice.
 

I think raising horses up here in the North Zone,
Is only for those with no brain of their own.
If I was inside, I'd have comfort and heat.
But, these ladies in waiting want something to eat.
 

Just look at those bellies, oh how they swell,
On last year's memories a moment I dwell.
Such grand excitement with each newborn foal,
As ladies in waiting fulfill their role.
 

Maybe, just maybe, this one's a winner,
So go our hopes with each new beginner.
Winter and hard work will soon be forgot,
The ladies and I know it's worth what we fought.
 

This horse farm may be a pain in the neck,
But we will still be here next year by heck.
So don't mind me if I smile and sing,
I'm anxiously waiting with the ladies for Spring!
 

(Bonee Erickson)
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I love Tennessee Walkers and all horses.  
I made this poem dedicated to all
horse lovers.

Birds Without Wings

They give us a taste of splendor,
nothing that anyone could ever render.
They are full of wonder and majesty,
everlasting like the sea.

Brighter than the brightest star,
nothing compares near or far.
Brighter than the sun,
they are everlasting, eternal fun.

Like rainbows they glimmer and glow,
always prancing as in a show.
Like mountains they stand proud and tall,
they never once stumble or fall.

Always soaring high,
like birds without wings they fly.
Whatever the future brings,
always horses will be birds without wings.

Jessica