Bee-ware
A Limericked Scheme
on a Near-Broken Dream
We came to the end of a ride,
Each gait marked with optimum stride,
Then went to unwind
On a roadway tree-lined,
Still coaxing our ponies astride.
On a roadway tree-lined,
Still coaxing our ponies astride.
We walked for a few lazy laps,
While keeping our mounts under wraps.
Just then, in a flash,
My pony did dash
And knocked me into a time lapse.
It seems that a hornet attack
Transformed my sweet mount to a hack.
He bucked, and he kicked,
And I could not predict
How hard on the ground I would smack.
Twelve broken bones later, I crawled.
My body was then overhauled.
For more than a year,
I stood by, unclear,
With riding no more so enthralled.
Once more, I remounted that colt,
Aware he might suddenly bolt.
No bees in our range,
But time for a change,
I almost gave up from the jolt.
At last, I was ready to learn.
My sweet mare then gave me a turn.
She walked in slow queue
Until we both knew
The respect we two longed then to earn.
c2014 by Linda Ann Nickerson
Image:
DZ for
DZ for
Nickers and Ink
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