Another of Sarah’s witty poems!
The Tale of Colours and Tracy
Well, Colours is quite a fine horse,
But trotting on up through the gorse
He got a bit hot,
So he picked out a spot.
Ahead was the cool pond, of course.
He walked straight on into the deep,
Though the sides were really quite steep.
Poor Tracy did yelp,
Said, ‘Michelle, can’t you help?’
But in plunged young Smog and two sheep.
Now Colours was still far too warm,
So a roll he began to perform.
‘Chelle chortled with glee
Said, ‘I’m glad it’s not me!’
As the mozzies and flies made a swarm.
Young Tracy emerged from the slime
Covered in pondweed and grime,
And as you might guess
Horse and dog were a mess,
As Trace to the saddle did climb.
The smell was just horribly bad,
And Tracy surprisingly mad.
It made Michelle’s day,
So what can we say?
They might have just started a fad…