Horseplay

Returned from a ride,

Carl, Catherine and I’d

Always find ourselves in disarray.

•

Two little girls,

Penny loafers and curls,

‘Top our mud-smattered Clydesdale valet.

•

Bedraggled with crud,

Would we scrub, soak, and sud

At the comely colt’s calico coat.

•

Stood he seventeen hands,

Of a thoroughbred strand

(And of Flemish descent, I might note).

•

One day it was so,

As we buffed from below,

There unsheathed a prodigious projection.

•

Consumed, Catherine teemed,

“Clean his penis!” she screamed,

Seizing hold of the equine erection.

•

So we lathered and gripped,

But we slipped as it whipped.

Washing bronco dong proved quite the feat.

•

A-mustering our might,

Firmly latching on tight,

The steed’s staff swept us clean off our feet.

•

“Don’t let go!” Catherine cried,

And for dear life, we tried

To hold on to the renegade rod.

•

To the cock, did we cling,

To and fro, would we swing,

Our foray, we feared fatally flawed.

•

When abruptly, he bucked,

From his prick, we were plucked,

And like two little dolls, were we tossed.

•

Unawares of the scope,

And presuming ‘twas soap

In which suddenly then we’d been glossed.

•

Now Forty years gone,

Fully grown and moved on,

Since that cosmically curious day.

•

Only just twenty-eight

Since sweet Cat met her fate,

Crushed to death ‘neath a large Cleveland Bay.

•

By her grave I reflect,

As I pay my respect,

And I lay down a wreath of bay laurel.

•

Every now and again,

Do I think of my friend,

And a calico Clydesdale called Carl.