Anvils And Handfuls Poem by Phil Soar
Anvils And Handfuls
The Blacksmith took the horses leg
And tugged at its old shoe
And in the process worried it
So much, it had a poo
With horseshit running down his arm
He brushed the flies away
And thought, I wish i'd stayed in bed
And not done this today
Monday, February 4, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: horses,humour
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9/14/2025 12:09:52 AM # 1.0.0
