Spring, Summer, Winter or Fall,
I never fail to heed their call.
Out to the barn I trudge in all weather,
Nothing prevents feeding and stall cleaning, nothing not ever!
Horses greet me with a neigh
As I fill their stalls with hay.
Content and quietly they continue to munch
As I tend to their stalls in the frozen months.
Yet frozen manure is hard to ignore,
It piles up quickly each night as I snore.
Removing frozen piles is challenging task,
But the stalls must be cleaned so in them horses can bask.
Kicking, beating and stabbing won’t do,
There’s not much that can out-wit a frozen pile of poo.
Some is removed but not all will abate,
And makes my sanity a subject of debate.
Falls and twisted ankles are often the result,
As the piles stick to the ground like a personal insult.
Despite best efforts, piles are left where they dwelt,
To live out the Winter and wait for Spring’s melt.
When Spring arrives it will gladly bring,
Unfrozen poo I can finally fling.