The Old Grey Mare

by Michael D Nalley   Feb 5, 2011


The old mare would lollop back to the gate
As if to say to me I cannot wait
To return to my home after I comb
The pasture for grass and randomly roam

I remember when she was a filly
Galloping over the fields so hilly
Jumping over obstacles with such ease
In the late twilight of a summers breeze

But, now like her ,the skies are very grey
She gets a bit slower everyday
I know it may sound so cliche' of me
To say she is not what she used to be

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  • 6 years ago

    by Glenn G

    I like this, it brings to mind how my bones ache more each day I age and as sad as that sounds, it's a beautiful and honest poem.

  • 7 years ago

    by Larry Chamberlin

    Of all our pets and domesticated creatures the horse most closely matches our lifespan. For this mare to have grown old in your lifetime says much about your own endurance. You have taken an old classic and reinvented it into your own piece.
    Beautifully done, Michael.

  • 13 years ago

    by H. Elizabeth

    Like Nicko said, this poem also captured me. It really reminded me of my old best friend, who has a horse that has gotten older...It made me rember the good times we had...I shall ask my old best friend about her horse now (-:

  • 13 years ago

    by Nicko

    Michael this poem captured me, made me pause for the longest time, to stare at something hidden deep within...

  • 13 years ago

    by kelleyana

    "The old mare would lollop back to the gate
    As if to say to me I cannot wait
    To return to my home after I comb
    The pasture for grass and randomly roam".

    I red this poem twice and i like the double meaning i get. This old mare, seems like you and me. Like someone we knew or remember, so energetic. Like a pure pleasure each time we meet.

    "I remember when she was a filly
    Galloping over the fields so hilly
    Jumping over obstacles with such ease
    In the late twilight of a summers breeze".

    This is brilliant. We all could imagine someone we knew or an animal who were so proud of themselves. Who accomplished so many things.

    "But, now like her ,the skies are very grey
    She gets a bit slower everyday
    I know it may sound so cliche' of me
    To say she is not what she used to be ."

    There are times we escape from ourselves. The person we use to know is not the same as use to be. What is good about our memories is that this person who use to be what we expect them to be will forever lived on. Very well done. Enjoy my read, kel.

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