Why The Long Face? … More Musings from a Poet Out Standing in His Field

The Poet

Following 18 days grazing the pastoral beauty of rural England it’s time, once more, for me to step into the day-to-day and establish a routine, albeit a slightly adjusted one as I make more room for tea time. ๐Ÿ˜‰

As for a certain horse ~ apparently my absence did not go unnoticed.

While I pull my vacation-stoked thoughts together in preparation for future writing projects, please enjoy the thoughtful ruminations (in sonnet form, of course) of my darling Shakespeare.

Oh, the drama …


Sonnet XXI

Woe Is Me

A fog of loneliness my spirit shroud

As separate from the one I love am forced.

My head and heart bemoan this passing cloud

No matter some might think me just a horse.

Thus plant my lips do I in grassy field

To fill the hours head down in happy place.

For to my sadness I resist to yield

And paste diminished smile on this long face.


As minutes pass to hours pass to days

In moments do I dwell my heart to heal.

Yet to the paddock gate I’m wont to gaze

In search of she to whom my heart reveal.

Perchance, as all things do, this fog will pass,

Returning to my view my lovely lass.


Fortunately there is a happy ending …


Sonnet XXII

Woe Be Gone!

The spearmint chill of autumn through my bones

Creeps as the frigid winds my flesh embrace.

Full care take I my heart turns not to stone

So mem’ries of my Love remain in place.

And to this end am glad to do my part

As from the gate a voice drifts o’er the breeze

To heat the very cellar of my heart

So flesh and bones thus warm a few degrees.


My Love, she hath returned. Oh bliss! Oh joy!

Cold wind her sweet voice carries home to me.

No more disconsolate or lonely boy

Love swarmeth in my heart as buzzing bee.

As bones and flesh alive with her now heal

The autumn’s chills no longer do I feel.


Bear Smiles

We’ll return to regular programming shortly .. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy ๐Ÿ™‚
Horse Mom


ยฉDorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013

A Poet Out Standing in his Field

Bear’s registered name is Shakespeare.

I like the name. But I didn’t name him.

His breeder in Germany did.

Bear’s sire,ย Shakespeare in Love, is registered as a stallion in theย Hannoveraner Verband. If you’re interested, scroll down the stallion directory to find Shakespeare in Love. Click on the license number and it will link you to a photo of Bear’s daddy as well as his pedigree.

Shakespeare’s lineage is known as the “S” line. Hanoverians are registered with a name that begins with the same first letter of the sire’s name. This way they can be easily traced by name to a particular lineage. Note his paternal male bloodline features names beginning with “S.”

Why he was given the name Shakespeare, particularly, will likely always remain a mystery to me but, frankly, it doesn’t really matter. Maybe on some grand meta-physical scale he was always destined to be my equine soulmate and the Universe conferred upon him a name that would prove inspirational to me.

Or, perhaps, the breeder just thought him a chip off the old block … ๐Ÿ˜‰

(He sure is handsome like his daddy.)

A poet out standing in his field ...

A poet out standing in his field …

Being a writer, the coincidence, if there is such a thing, that the horse I’d been waiting for all my life had been named for one of the greatest writers of all time was not lost on me.

Not long after Shakespeare arrived home my creative juices began to flow and I started imagining life on the farm through the eyes of my horse. Naturally enough, his meanderings of thought came by way of poetry. In time the poems began to formulate as sonnets.

Poet’s Paddock,” a blog currently under renovation, was born of this process. So far there are about 20 sonnets in the collection. The author? Shakespeare “The Equine.”

I’m considering compiling and publishing these sonnets as a book of poetry. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, and in light of my last post about summer saying goodbye, I thought it would be fun to share with you Shakespeare “The Equine’s own imaginative ruminations on the end of summer.

Straight from the horse’s mouth, as it were, from a poet out standing in his field. ๐Ÿ˜‰



Sonnet XX

Summer Says Goodbye

By calendar the year hath passed away

And glowing fall its presence hath announced.

Yet cooler air hath yet to come our way

While warmer days my body hath renounced.

Forsooth, what shall I do with such a coat

Grown thick in time for winter’s hoary blast?

Too soon to clip, in sweat I stay afloat

And long for cooler days to come at last.


For while warm days doth often bring me bliss

And in sun’s light I bask and graze with glee,

This errant heat I’m happy to dismiss ~

Tis winter’s fashions now I sport, you see.

Thus Mother Nature’s hot flash soon must end,

Else surely I’ll be driven ’round the bend.


Isn’t he a clever horse? ๐Ÿ˜‰

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy ๐Ÿ™‚
Horse Mom

ยฉDorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013