Returned from our ride,

Carl, Catherine and I’d,

Always find ourselves in disarray.

 Ο

Two little girls,

Penny loafers and curls,

‘Top a mud-smattered Clydesdale valet.

 Ο

Bedraggled with crud,

Would we scrub, soap and sud

At the comely colt’s calico coat.

Ο

Stood he seventeen hands,

Of a thoroughbred strand

(And of Flemish descent, I might note).

Ο

One day it was so,

As we buffed from below,

A gargantuan phallus unsheathed.

Ο

A portentous projection,

The equine erection,

“Clean the penis!” my friend brusquely breathed.

Ο

So we lathered and gripped,

But we slipped as it whipped.

Washing horse hog, it seemed, was a feat.

 Ο

When we mustered our might,

Firmly latching on tight,

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

Ο

“Don’t let go!” Catherine cried,

And for dear life, we tried

To hold on to the renegade rod.

Ο

To the cock, did we cling,

To and fro, would we swing,

Our foray, we feared fatally flawed.

Ο

Abrupt came the spasm,

Sheer stallion orgasm.

Like two little dolls, were we tossed.

 Ο

Unawares of the scope,

And presuming ‘twas soap

In which suddenly then we’d been glossed.

Ο

Now Forty years gone,

Fully grown and moved on,

Since that cosmically curious day.

Ο

Only just twenty-eight

Since sweet Cat met her fate,

Crushed to death ‘neath a large Cleveland Bay.

 Ο

By her grave I reflect,

As I pay my respect,

And I lay down a wreath of bay laurel.

 Ο

Every now and again,

Do I think of my friend,

And a calico Clydesdale called Carl.