Homage
Published by GHC • Mar 14th, 2010 • Category: March for Wild Horses, Poetry, by Madelainaby Madelaina
Each rear, it draws me near,
Each buck steals them from gravity’s binds…
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by Madelaina
Each rear, it draws me near,
Each buck steals them from gravity’s binds…
by Violet Inkpen
I kick up my feet and shake my mane
Oh to be free on the wide and wild plain…
by Madelaina
Springtime you’ll joy in the clover,
the dandelion fields you believe a wonder…
by Violet Inkpen | My name was Sissy. I was born on a beautiful island, where the grass grew up to your chest (or your nose if you were a foal), where the sea could always be heard in the distance, where the sandy beaches were pure and untainted, and where life was perfect…
by Violet Inkpen
You cared about us when times were bad
You fought for us and made us glad…
by Madelaina
Blossoms that bloom through not only spring
Are these wild horses, alive…
by HorseFeathers
This land is barren now silent,
Stiller than death itself…
by Violet Inkpen | Amy leaned against the fence and watched the mustangs trotting around the pen, ears flat. Jimmy was to her left and Sue at her right. Sarah was arguing with her aunt, who worked for the BLM…
by Madelaina | With the battle for the freedom of America’s wild mustangs, I’ve read, gathered and dwelled on the many facts I came across, and the thoughts that evolved from them. So here I’ve composed a small but provoking collection of them to hopefully inform and inspire…
by Julia
Thirty-three thousand roam the lands of the west.
They gallop and frolic with their own lands to roam…