 |
 |
Who Who rode a cock horse to Banbury cross, Who saw a fine lady ride on white horse. It wasn't me I was at home you see, Eating shrimps and drinking my tea. Who had rings on her fingers and bells on her toes. No one says whether she had a ring in her nose. Who will have music wherever she goes, Especially in winter at the time of the snows. This all reminds me of Lady Godiva, Was she another such Lady rider. From riding a horse, bareback of course. Dignified as she tried to hide. Her lack of clothes with solemn pose, A maid so meek that none did peak. No remark on her lack of clothes. For this I would award, if you are in accord, The order of the rose for her dainty pose. © Bernard Shaw http://members.teleweb.at/bernard.shaw/poetry.html [log in to unmask]