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.