Home spun Poetry #2

I  owned a creamy horse, a creamy horse named Custard.
Now, Custard liked to trot, the trottin' creamy Custard,
Some days he'd buck me off and I'd fall upon the ground.
It made me really sad, but I should've sent him to the pound.
One day, in rainy weather, he rolled in lots of Mud.
The dirty trottin', buckin' muddy custard, it was hard to stay his bud.
Creamy Custard went missing, and now I  know what where,
But I am so pleased that the dirty trottin' buckin, muddy creamy Custard
Never made me swear.

Home Spun Poetry

Hard Times

Hard times last longer so it seems

When the miseries of life torment the soul

There appears no hope in your despair

No happiness that will console

And yet, even life's misery has its place

It enhances the simple joy of life

Things we once took for granted

Are manifest when rising from the strife

How much more we appreciate love

When we have been forsaken

Health after illness, strength when it returns

All the good things there to be taken

Misery and woe are easy to attain

But happiness needs some work

No bird sings if we turn a deaf ear

No light shines if in darkness we lurk

Seek love and you will prosper

Have the strength to survive

Care about yourself, and be cared for

Be thankful that you are at least, alive.