Colin F. Jones

I USED TO…

~ 1 ~

I used to watch a talking horse called Ed
Who never to his friends was mute.
But to those who ventured near his little shed
He’d keep his silence lest his voice pollute.
A tall horse he was and coloured silver grey
Well fed and stabled with a Kingly bed
A cut above the average some would say
If you like old horses with inflated heads
Interestingly, the show died with the horse
Which was a shame for many loved it so
But narrow process simply runs its course
For sharing with self purpose leads to woe
Where a brother pony ignores another nag
There always is a complex little snag

~ 2 ~

I used to coach a team of soccer men
One of whom was good to watch and run
He liked to show how good he was but then
This dear old coach deprived him of his fun
Though he played best of all the willing team
He thought he was the very team itself
And that of course was but a narrow dream
For down the gurgler went his dreams of wealth
When told his friends were not his props to fame
That he was just a part of what they were
He chose to honour the players with his shame
By leaving in a rage until transfer
There are, you know, some folk who pass the test
And all of those are just the very best