Sonnet XIII … A New Way of Being

Spring hath sprung and with it cometh a new lease on life.

“Springeth me from my box of winter blues, that I might fulfill the measure of my creation!”

Perchance a tad dramatic, yet tis time to embrace a new and more complete way of being in the world.

Anything else is so yesterday.


Sonnet XIII … A New Way of Being

To break out of one’s box, if truth be told,

Is not for faint of heart consumed with fear.

One must desire change; one must be bold

For new and wondrous blessings to appear.

And to this end one day did I aspire,

Embarking on a journey from my slump.

And from my ember rose into a fire

Where I didst gladly test myself, and jump.

With wings of Pegasus o’er course I flew

As heart didst bound with each and every stride.

And burning fire from timid ember grew

Til I no longer could my spirit hide.

Hence when into my box for rest I leapt

My heart no longer faint thus soundly slept.


See you anon in Poet’s Paddock!

Shakespeare “The Equine”

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

The Horse As Therapist

Another flight of fancy. I’m allowed.

Come fly with me …

The Horse As Therapist

When you look at me, of course
You think I’m just a big, brown horse.
But listen, now, I’ve got some news,
I’m the go-to guy when you’ve got the blues.

Feeling lonely? Feeling blue?
I’ll tell you what you need to do …
Just spend a little time with me
And you’ll feel better soon, you’ll see.

Grab a brush and go to town;
Groom my body up and down.
Use some elbow grease and find
You’ll rub the blues out of your mind.

In the saddle with me move
Together we will find our groove.
Forget all troubles, and all grief,
Just flow with me and find relief.

Then, take me for a gentle graze
Release the last of your malaise.
And to my stable gently lead
To find, at last, your soul is freed.

But best of all you need to know
About the little seed you sow.
When spending time with me, t’is true,
You help me to feel better too.


Find a horse to love today!

See you anon in Poet’s Paddock …

Shakespeare “The Equine”

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Sonnet VII — The Final Call


In late November last, old age hath crept upon dear Preston and, at age 32, was he finally laid to rest. His empty stall remindeth me of life’s finite nature and what follows are my thoughts on the matter.

Sonnet VII

The final call of night ‘pon us descends,

As wayward thief with stealth oft doth intrude,

And pilfers life that’s left until it ends

And often in a way that’s rank and rude.

So few of us are tuned to clarion call

That whispers to our hearts our time has come

As tangled up in life as one big brawl

The Angel Dark must shout her work is done.

And those that mourn and mewl in disbelief

While wrapped in cloak of darkness left behind

See Death hath made its claim; hath spread its grief

And muse how one so cruel might still be kind.

And whilst I ponder o’er yon empty stall

In truth I know we all must take Death’s call.


See you anon in Poet’s Paddock!

Shakespeare “The Equine”

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Sonnet VI — The Path

"As particles of thought the fluffy cloud ..."

In Poet’s Paddock I have a lot of time to muse. Herewith my thoughts on life’s path, whatever we choose it to be.

Sonnet VI

Moments drift in light throughout the day

As particles of thought the fluffy cloud

That shifts and changes ever on its way

Unveiling our truth beneath the shroud.

I ponder this as to my lips I press

Sweet tender hay the harvest hath procured

From summer’s field where once twas verdant grass;

When cut and baled its purpose is assured.

With every moment life gives spirit shape

Well-rounded, square or twisted, it’s our choice.

The journey leads to love or conjures hate

Revealed in the heart and through the voice.

My wish for thee — take care the path you choose,

For moments we embrace our journeys prove.


See you anon in Poet’s Paddock …

Shakespeare “The Equine”

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012