There was a mare worth praise
Whose large behind would just rise
At the sound of the rooster under the morning sky
Ready to squeal like little mice
A different stallion would help her every time
Year after year the rutting continued
Without even asking the stallions opinions
Day after day the stallions cried
Failing to prove to be fit companions
The Princes resign on a fitting pony to rhyme
So these stallions will just have to do for the time.

By: Leonzilla