An ode on a piece of gymnasium equipment
My heart quakes, and a lousy glumness gains A hold on me and fills me with dismay, Then, as my terror mounts and courage wanes, I feel the sudden urge to run away. ’Tis not through fear of failure, for I see, Whilst gazing on thy giddy height with dread, That failure is, like death, a certainty Were I to brave the task which looms ahead. Too often have I seen thee standing proud Before my eyes, a heavy, solid lump That mocks me while my peers about me crowd, All jeering, urging me to run and jump! Thy sombre presence saps my sagging pride, Just to behold thee drowns me in remorse, For never shall I clear, with legs astride, Thy fearsome bulk thou vintage vaulting horse.
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