Heart

Heart

A Poem by Tate Morgan
"

In honor of my father Eddie who taught me to get back up.

"

My favorite horse and I Scarlet Message. 


The post parade complete at last

the bugle finally played

My heart pounded as hooves sounded

just get us home safe I prayed

That night was like many others

as I sat behind the stud

 Skies overcast, let loose at last

 each horse seemed to swim in mud

 

 

We turned to face the starting gate

I chirped to set him alight

All could tell as we knew too well

this was a hell of a night

Fire stoked in each the beasts nostrils

I could feel each burning breath

I knew too well, the hounds of hell

might take us both to our death

 

 

We followed the gate to the stretch

the wings closed to let us fly

I tucked him in, hoping he'd win

 and nothing would go awry

On back my neck breathed the Demon

 front-ender that I most feared

The Devils Spell I knew too well

one the gamblers all revered

 

 

Death rode the back of my helmet

his hot breath searing my neck

I’d rather he, be behind me

than in front and cause a wreck

The quarter pole bunched up tightly

the front end had closed ground

Tighter it got, man he was hot

he wanted to run me down

 

 

The hooves pitched limestone in our eyes

we closed on the second turn

At my wheels, nipping on my heels

the Demon began to burn

He wanted out that was certain

but the field had closed us in

I couldn’t see, neither could he

how either of us might win

 

 

The Demon wasn’t used to this

he had never been held back

He would burn wheels, kick up his heels

as he ran off down the track

I could hear his labored breathing

as his driver choked him down

The last turn steered, then we all cleared

it was time to go to town

 

 

The field rolled out of the end turn

as the Red Sea opened wide

My stud snatched his bit, in a fit

we were off for a wild ride

Just in front of the Demon Seed

I felt we'd surely collide

I turned to see, he was on me

as he rolled up alongside

 

 

But the fire had gone out in him

he had spit the bit the beast

He'd choked upon humility

or so it had seemed, at least

We had cleared the rest of the pack

stared down the Demon of Sin

To slip and slide on life’s rough ride

and come out the end to win

 

 

The Demon never won again

retired of a broken heart

I think all knew, as I did too

he would draw an Amish cart

But that’s just how one grows in life

all made at times to feel small

The best aren't mean, though they are seen

to get up, each time they fall

 

© 2018 Tate Morgan


Author's Note

Tate Morgan
What forms the character of a man? Pride in oneself and the ability to accept defeat. It is not as important that a man win as it is that he accept his performance and try his best. Of course anyone who lacks humility will be humbled by rocky shores of life. With or without his permission. This a poem to honor my fathers life. For he was one who always got back up when he fell. A fitting testament to the creed he learned from his own father and then passed down to me.

My Review

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Featured Review

Bravo Tate, you've taken that life experience and brought it to life for your readers. The rhythm you chose echoes the hooves of those horses as they thunder along the straight, bringing the race alive, and into the living rooms of everyone who reads this. The only thing this lacks is punctuation, and the lack of this gives halt to the reading in a number of places.
One typo - 'The Demon wasn’t use(d) to this'
Thanks for a great ride...

Posted 11 Years Ago


7 of 7 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

beautiful, thrilling, I am just blessed to read your writing.

Posted 11 Years Ago


You could not find a better Mentor.David is a hell of a story teller.
One who keeps the bardic tradition of story telling alive.
This is your best yet Tate ivor

Posted 11 Years Ago


Wow . . .
A shade of the life of Tate Morgan I was clueless about, very fascinating. Simply engrossing, I could not stop reading, much like with many David Lewis Paget's pieces you send me to read. Whether that is a sign of success to you or no, it was . . . (insert numerous words) to read.
And then there are all the parallels to life I could go into, but I'll spar you.

Posted 11 Years Ago


I am at awe with your story! The rhythmic flow and ryhme is excellent...your talent for crafting heartfelt stories within your poetry is amazing! Great work Tate!

Posted 11 Years Ago


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AK
Wow! This poem is brilliant. I really liked it. The rhyming and syllable schemes were wonderful! Keep writing!

Posted 11 Years Ago


it has a similar rhythm to the Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear I feel. Great poem and you keep the rhythm almost perfectly. I would like to point out though that HOPING does not contain an E.....Easy oversight, I probably do it all the time. Thanks for the ride

Posted 11 Years Ago


Great story with great rhymes. You are the master poet.

Posted 11 Years Ago


A lovely poem :)

Posted 11 Years Ago


Very well done Tate. I would say you certainly captured what the video shows. I really like the pacing, it too works well with the video. The rhyme shceme also works. I can see that you put a lot of though into this piece and did it very well. The story is most prominant in delivering its' message. Thank you for sharing it...!

Posted 11 Years Ago


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Beautiful work Tate. This lovely ballad took me on a ride immediately after the first line. The recreation of Paget meter really helps your piece sing throughout the entire adventure. The imagery is magnificent, and it is a true honor, dear friend to comment on your work. Great job--as always:)

-Cord

Posted 11 Years Ago



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9344 Views
102 Reviews
Shelved in 6 Libraries
Added on August 17, 2012
Last Updated on August 21, 2018
Tags: poetry, romance, love, Life, Sad, adventure, mystery, pain, poem, story, death, fantasy, fiction, heart, racing, winning, losing

Author

Tate Morgan
Tate Morgan

Marion , OH



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Available from Amazon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..

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