Terry Flood Poet Rhyme

Rusty Joy

A Franky and Spud Encounter

The coach, old and rusty, pulled up at the gate 
The horses, portending the schoolchildren’s fate
Franky looked over and thought it was great
While Spud bore a look that said he was irate

But school children grow at a different rate
So different size horses stood calm and sedate
Spud’s not the quickest but must get the biggest
The chestnut he fancied was the tallest and thickest

If he could be first to that rust coloured horse
Then he’d lead the way on the pony trek course
He wasn’t a writer, he wasn’t a reader 
But he would show everyone he was a leader

The coach door was open but he was far from it
So Spud shouted watch out, I’m going to vomit
The kids stood aside and that made a clear path
So Spud got off first with a victory laugh

Franky called out were supposed to be taught
Horse riding ain’t easy as you might have thought
But Spud found some steps and he mounted his steed
And screamed when his stallion set off at speed

Spud did his best to regain his composure
With tears in his eyes from wind speed exposure
But Franky yelled ‘Rusty Joy’ easy boy, Whoa!
He’d been here before, which Spud didn’t know

And Rusty Joy slowed and returned at a trot
And Spud acted nonchalant... which he was not
So as the kids stood by the horse they had got
Spud hammed it up... are we going or what

So gripping the reins in fear of his life
If I’m overtaken there’s gonna be strife
Franky called out, you should stay with the pack
Spud yelled, I’m the leader, you’d better stay back

To drive his point home, he dug in with his feet
And Rusty Joy went like a demon on heat 
Spud just squealed whoa boy with futile insistence
But soon he was only a spec in the distance
Then Rusty Joy saw some lush grass, good for dining
Which proves every cloud comes with a silver lining
As, rapidly, Rusty Joy came to a stop
Spud landed face down in some festering plop

The kids soon caught up and Franky said Yuk
You’re gonna be rich ’cause there’s brass where there’s muck
You never said you were a horseman: that’s humble
What a good overhead, face first, tumble!

Spud sat himself up against Rusty Joy’s legs
I’m not gonna rest until each of you begs
If you don’t plead good, you’re gonna be dead
Then Rusty Joy’s bowels emptied over his head

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Jan Allison May 25, 2021 at 4:15 PM ha ha ha you crease me up with your humour - write on lol:-) hugs jan xx Terry Flood May 25, 2021 at 5:17 PM I went pony trekking once and once only. My horse really was called Rusty. He had this thing... if he was at the back, he wanted to be out in front and he would just go for it. If he was at the front he would lean forward and eat until all the other horses had passed him by... at which point, you’ve got it, he was at the back again... repeat ad infinatum... I just held on for dear life. Glad you find my distress amusing ;-) Terry

Tom Cunningham May 25, 2021 at 3:11 PM Lol, someone's washing their hair tonight. Well written Terry. Tom Terry Flood May 25, 2021 at 3:18 PM Hey Tom. Always meant Franky and Spud to be a series. Ran out of steam at two stories. The positive reaction to those two inspired me to write this one. Glad you liked. Terry