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Mind muddled

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Mind muddled

Post  Lucie on Sun May 12 2013, 01:47

Oh how to write a thousand words
That speak the tongue of thundering herds?
Such pounding gallops in my head
No order of syllable can be said.
This urged stampede just manifests
And rushes in and will not rest
Yet I must tame its raging fury
To rest it well to hear its story.
For no sense came from pen'ed ink
That scribbled fast afore time to think
Must grab the reins and reel it in
And tell only aft it's wretched din.


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Re: Mind muddled

Post  mikeschultz on Sun May 12 2013, 15:03

Lucie, you've another very nice poem on your hands here. I particularly like how well your words create in the reader's mind images of galloping, free-ranging horses when they are not specifically named, and how easily you liken thought to racing herds . Racing thoughts, "scribbled fast afore time to think / Must grab the reins and reel it in," so well described. Bravo-Zulu!

My paternal grandfather had been a member of the US Calvary as a young man. He had a great passion for horses. I didn't develop his passion, but I did take from him a great admiration for the magnificent beasts. If I may, I'd like to relate a small story.

My grandparents lived in Hialeah, Florida (home of the world famous horse race track). When I was a young boy, six and seven, I would accompany my grandfather to the Hialeah Race Track to watch the grooms and handlers take care of the horses. Sometimes, if things were slow and no one important was looking, one of the grooms would toss me up onto a bare back, tell me to hold on to mane for balance, but to not pull on it. Then the groom would lead the horse around in little circles while a very excited young boy rode astride a very large and beautiful animal.

Sometimes I'd get to help wash a horse, especially if it was hot (which it usually was in south Florida) and Grandpa had brought a towels. Well, long story, short, before we would pack up and head on home for lunch, Grandpa would hand me a small garden pruning fork and a burlap sack and have me go around to the "cool" pile and fill it up. Grandpa liked to see me work. He said it was good for us both. I understand that now, but then, I think I just smiled, thinking it was another of those esoteric things grown-ups sometimes say. There you have it, a little short story of a boy and his grandpa. By the way, Grandpa had the prettiest roses in all of South Florida by my reckoning.

Thanks for reading, and thank you for sharing your poem. I pray you had lovely Mother's Day.


give flowers

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Re: Mind muddled

Post  Lucie on Mon May 13 2013, 06:06

How can a top such a beautiful memory. I am chuffed you wished to share it with me. It was a touching read. Again, I must thank you for your encouraging words. Its so nice to hear what someone sees and feels from a few scattering words of thought.

Bless you.

sunny hug


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Re: Mind muddled

Post  Sue McDonald on Mon May 13 2013, 22:37

Beautiful Lucie, loved reading this ....Well Done ! Set my mind racing !! And what a beautifully told story from Mike ....I loved that very much !! Like a Star @ heaven Like a Star @ heaven Like a Star @ heaven
Sue McDonald

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