The Wild Mare Poem by Dr John Celes

I know about a thin brown mare,
Whose trot I can't endorse!
It ate just turnips and no grass,
And dreamt of Arabia!

It had no one to groom it well,
Or stable of its own;
Yet, stately was its walk most times,
Becoming talk of the town!

But soon the time came to gallop,
All by itself that too;
And all her dreams of past vanished,
And spectre-like they all turned!

Not a meadow green, did she find!
The roads were rough to tread;
Life had become so much cruel;
Some bitter lessons, she'd learn't!

And soon she tried to canter now,
And tried to eat some grass;
On dusty roads and vales, by-lanes,
She then began her first trot!

When sickness tried to threaten her,
She took much care to drink;
And by brink of a brook shallow,
Now lively became her trot!

She found the roads in life quite tough,
For young a female horse!
She realized so quickly then,
She wasn't from Arabia!