Terrorbred

Jezebel

the racehorse

with wolves

she was found

To run

in the daytime

by moonlight

she howled

Her stable

was cave like

her food

freshly killed

Smart jockeys

won’t ride her

no matter

how skilled

In May

was The Derby

with roses

askew

As trainers

and grooms

stood in fear

at high noon

She had

to be victor

or hell

would arrive

With Jezebel

eating

the winner

— alive

(Rhymes From The Nursery: July, 2025)