THE SKOOG FARM JOURNAL: Cold, But No Snow

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Cold, But No Snow

This is going to be very short and sweet.

Chores, chorus, Java for a Greek panini, chores and a beautiful sunset.

Night all.

6 comments:

Sharon Creech said...: Wow, what a fiery sunset! xx; March 18, 2015 at 9:03 PM
Nancy J said...: Wonderful sunset glow, enough to warm up the girls, even if only in colour.; March 18, 2015 at 11:33 PM
Martine said...: The sunset looks like fire!
What's the bit tower thing in the 4th photo?; March 19, 2015 at 3:46 AM
Val Ewing said...: Looks like your weather finally broke out of winter!; March 19, 2015 at 10:09 AM
Michaele said...: Glad to see your snow is going away. I love that downtown shot!; March 19, 2015 at 3:00 PM
Michelle said...: Another beautiful day in your neighborhood.; March 19, 2015 at 7:16 PM

FROM GREY HORSE MATTERS...

Where to Bury a Horse

If you bury him in this spot,
the secret of which you must already have,
he will come to you when you call;
come to you over the far, dim pastures of death.

And though you ride other living horses through life,
they shall not shy at him, nor resent his coming,
For he is yours, and he belongs there.

People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass
bent by his footfall,
who hear no nicker pitched too fine for insensitive ears.
People who may never really love a horse.

Smile at them then, for you shall know something
that is hidden from them
and which is well worth the knowing
The one place to bury a horse is in the heart of his master.

Thank you, Grey Horse Matters.

Poem for Masterpiece

Masterpiece of '79

He was a dark bay Masterpiece.

Deep chocolate brown

With small coal tipped ears

And three snowy white socks.

An eraser smudge of white

Above his eye

And a star connected to a blaze

Starting narrow and funneling wide

To wrap his lips

in a kiss.

He lived with dignity and joy;

A Masterpiece blend

of longevity

And temperament.

Appaloosa for soundness,

Thoroughbred for heart, and

Quarter Horse for sensible intelligence.

Although he is gone

His Masterpiece remains

In the memory of Jen

Who found and rode him;

And of Lori

Who soaked his beet pulp

And his sore feet,

Who loved him and,

When it was time,

Let him go.

Poem by Annette from Aspen Meadows.
Thank you.....

Followers

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Cold, But No Snow

6 comments: