so gather round, ye merrye bande
hark, to hear this tale
of a boy, a horse,
a saddle, (of course)
and a woman o'er whom fate would prevail
"to grandparents' house" the woman cried
and set off, her family in tow
o'er hill and plain
'til at last yonder lane
to grandparents', up did they go!
'twas a farm, with land, fields, and beasts
yon hills stretched far and wide
and there were horses
beautiful horses
(the woman's weakness, though she vainly would hide)
animal magnetism drew the son
the woman not far behind
down to the horse pen
and then, they went in
and then, they wanted to ride
the boy hopped aboard his sturdy steed
with a nervous whinny (from which, who knows?)
the mother however,
a more complicated endeaver,
required a boost, a lift, a push, finally she rose
into a shaky seat, and with a nervous laugh
(which sounded much like aformentioned whinny)
they cantored off as one
the mother and her son
and then(ny)...
the mother bounced once, twice, thrice, and flew
off the equine, and awkwardly into
the hill (or plain) either way, 'twas plain
the mother was due for no small pain
sitting on ice, later that day
she remarked, "the saddle wasn't on all the way"
to which grandfather replied, perceptively
"yeah, well, y'ain't as young as you used to be."
and so, thus ends my merrye story
of the woman's fall from former glory
i hope you've laughed until you're hoarse
at the tale, neigh, the
tail, of the nasty, mean horse!
