When I was young enough for my dreams to touch the sky,
I had a rocking horse that, for Mamma, was just about knee-high;
And every day after I finished my breakfast of cereal and milk,
I’d get up on my rocking horse, wood sanded smooth as silk.
For an hour or two we’d sail across the land and seas
To gnomish caves and elven woods that waited just for me.
Oh, the things we saw, my rocking horse and I,
The world back home just floating slowly by.
There were daring adventures, epic battles, and loyal friends,
But by the end of the hour (or two) they would have to end.
No matter how loud my cries or many my tears,
Mamma would take me despite my fears
Of leaving my rocking horse all alone
To face the dragons and piles of bones.
But no, my lovely painted rocking horse never did mind,
For by the day’s end we again left the queer world behind.
My Mamma never did understand the joy on my face
After exploring lands far away at our own steady pace,
For though she listened and watched me on my rocking horse
She never heard his whispered promises that, of course,
He’d be with me always to the ends of the world
No matter how quickly my childhood unfurled.
I clung to my rocking horse and his promise as I grew,
But oh how cruelly old Father Time flew.
Too soon did that fatal day come,
Leaving my reeling mind numb,
That my beloved rocking horse could no longer carry
My grown body and dreams turned weary.
His dulled, worn figure cracked beneath my weight
And left my poor suffering heart to the same fate.

This is the story of the rocking horse that broke my heart,
Who now lives in fairy realms and my dreams, a world apart.