Harold Roy Miller Poems

Owning A White Horse, by Harold Roy Miller

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Owning a White Horse

Harold Roy Miller

Horses always captured my attention
whenever I watched a cowboy flick.
The hero's magnificent white horse
would usually be my favorite pick.

I would be totally enamored with them
and would slip into a fantasy zone.
Then I would go off and daydream for hours
about owning a white horse of my own.

One day I went out and bought one.
She was almost pure snow white.
A tall young filly that would have been
a cowboy movie star's delight.

I was as proud as a peacock to have her,
but learned a few things in due course,
about the cold hard facts of owning
what I thought was a pretty white horse.

The simple truth of the matter is
clean and white they just won't stay.
It's always becomes very apparent
what they came in contact with that day.

They can change to about any color
from mud brown to manure green,
Or be spotted like an appy or a pinto
or perhaps somewhere in between.

I have seen her turn into a buckskin
when she gets all coated with mud,
and she's been a golden palomino
after she has wallowed in the crud.

One thing I can always count on
when I saddle up my white pride
is I have to give her a shower
before I can get on and ride.

One day I saw something so shocking,
it filled my heart with dread.
My young filly's snowy white chest
was covered with streaks of red.

I was horrified - I thought it was blood
and I darn near almost fainted
until I realized she'd only leaned against
some panels I had just freshly painted.

I know they are other horse owners
that share in this pigment plight.
They too have seen their ivory equines
turn different colors overnight.

As for myself, I admit it's a losing battle
that there just ain't no use to fight,
since a supposedly white-colored horse
never, ever seems to stay white.

Dirty White, Grey Icelandic Horse

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