The Distance Rider - Poem

[JANUSSTUDIO@aol.com]

Spring is almost here, and some of you have already long hit the 
competitions.  So if you're in the poetic mood, here goes another one. <g>


‘Twas the Distance Rider

Without a penny to her name, 
she rode a beast to much fame.
She carried no fat upon her bone,
her look of hunger so well-known.
No doubt about it, she was quite a dame!

Her mount was lean, mean and not too green,
and never, never did he preen.
His head hung low,  he snaked through the trees,
Scooping up water, making his own breeze.
No doubt about it, nothing like him had ever been seen!

On her head was a bucket, dented and scratched
from limbs and rocks and anything that snatched.
Hands like leather, eyes of stone
she tore through the forests, on the great roan.
No doubt about it, she couldn't be catched!

On her beast she spent her little money,
only the best for her honey.
His bridle shone a bright, light orange,
and his saddle too looked quite strange.
No doubt about it, they were quite looney!

From her gear hung sponges and scoops,
on her body strapped waters and soups.
She rode like a warrior, all bent and torn,
he carried her at speeds for which he was born. 
She screamed, a wail, "No spooks, no spooks!"
No doubt about it, there had been a few oops!

So when you're riddin' along sipping your beer,
and your mount jumps up and flips an ear.
Be wise, be quick and get out of the way,
for the distance rider is about to make your day.
No doubt about it, you will fear, for everything you ever held dear!

When the distance rider across the finish does tear,
Get up, get moving, get out of your chair.
Splash the water, squirt the juice, look at them close,
for they are breathing fire, for which there is no dose.
No doubt about it, you will shout, you will cheer, and isn't it only fair!
© Janice Taylor