Stride

Little Timmy in the saddle Loves to writhe and wriggle He just won't sit still Only gallop will fit the bill When his father says, "Son, slow up." "Stride is tired, don't make him gallop." I know I have brought some pleasure To this child who is at his leisure Overheard father talk one day To some friends along the way He said I sure do like to prance I prefer to say I dance I'm allowed a special treat Whenever Timmy 'n I do meet Apple or carrot drawn from pocket. The key in the gate will unlock it Soon saddle again will be applied Where to go? He is my guide I know I will have some fun For now I know that I can run