Beneath the saddle, or 'fore the plow,
My troth to thee, I here do vow.
A grand surrey, or dung heap tow,
In clover field, with pastured cow,
My troth to thee, I forever vow.
The mare in shake, her tears she'd thrown.
'Neath the saddle, or before the plow,
My troth to thee, pledge I, my vow.
Princess carriage, or caisson tow,
In pastures green, with boar or sow.
My troth to you, I forever vow.
Yoked in tandem, matched side by side,
O'er mountain heights and valley wide,
Frolic we, our remaining strides.
Hills and heights not nearly as high
Lonesome valleys more eas'ly plied.
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| Writing Prompt |
Please write a free form poem on any subject. |
Author Notes
I knew that this was a free form contest, but lost sight of that when I got busy with it.
Darn! I wasted some good rhymes.
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