Golden Horse

Nae's Nest —  November 8, 2012 — 1 Comment

She was an old spinsters

No one knew her name

Many called her a witch

Others said she was insane

She collected old wands

And made them into spools

She used the Wheel of Time

Making it a wheeled tool

She used the hair of  Golden horses

For which she would spin into lovely corsets

Women would come a country mile

To buy every corset, to buy every style

The more golden the hair, the most desired

Spinning  a man’s loins into sensual fire

Enslaving him to a woman, the most sour of the land

Not a man alive would offer his hand

These women were most obstinate

With bright red lips of a sourpuss

These were the ones who would seek

The golden corsets, no matter how long it took

There was only one rule

The corset was never to be removed

Lest you are cursed by the hoof of the golden horse

Low and behold it happened one night

In her desire, a women forgot in, due course

She removed her garment in front of her man

Suddenly she was a sourpuss

But with the head of a  golden mule

The man couldn’t take it so off he ran

Forever feeling the fool

Renee Robinson











Nae's Nest


I find myself "Dancing With Cancer", problem is...I can't dance. I stumble, bumble, and get pulled along. To keep my sanity, (humor me), I write short stories, a journal, musings and poetry....just about anything goes.

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