“My old horse ted”

In the amber glow of morning, where the dew lay soft and thick,  
Ted waits by the weathered fence, mane wild and spirit quick.  
His coat, a dappled tapestry of grays and sun-kissed white,  
Eyes the color of new earth, gentle flames that warm the light.  

We wandered hill and hollow, from misty dawns to dusk's embrace,  
His hooves composing lullabies upon each open space.  
He bore me over meadows, where wild clover bows and bends,  
Unspoken trust between us—old companions, truest friends.  

Ted knew the rhythm of my heart, the tremble in my voice;  
He listened, strong and silent, as if he, too, had a choice  
To run or rest, to follow dreams, or simply stand and wait—  
His patience like a rolling stream that time could not abate.  

His muzzle soft as cotton, seeking apples from my hand,  
The way he’d nuzzle gently, as if trying to understand  
How years slip by like rivers, yet some bonds, they never sever:  
The memory of old Ted’s gallop—carried on forever.  

Now fields are tinged with autumn, fences lean with memory,  
But somewhere in the wind’s low song, Ted rides again with me.  
In every hoofbeat echo, in each dawn or sunset red,  
I find, with grateful longing, my old horse, faithful Ted.

Create Your Own Poem | Recent Poems