Oh Pup, why couldn't I go to the stable with brother,
there are stallions there and a foal with the red mare
to the hounds he's going, to chase foxes with father.
I can hear the brass horn sound, can you hear its blare?
Mother says little girls can't go. It's really not fair!
I can ride, I can too! Hear, I'm talking to you.
Yes, I know, I know, puppy you wanted to go too.
I've got a hobby horse, could you be a fox?
We'll play run through the meadow and scream tally-hoo.
I bet you, we could play hunt without shoes and socks!
* See About the poem for the Picture
Contest: Briton Reviere