He galloped and galloped and galloped on,
He was riding the horse since early morn.
The horse was tired and panting away
But the rider moved on along the way.
He was dressed in breeches and crocodile skin boots;
He had a gun with which he seldom shoots.
He was passing through a desert – all so blazing hot!
Fancy his not stopping, for he sweated a lot.
But he was filled with determination
And also moved by his father’s persuasion
To meet him in his last days.
Now this is what his will says:
“My entire belongings – money and all –
Would of course on him fall;
He who had taken pity on me
And had each day come to see
After my health, and what I was doing
And whether I was easy going.”
At this, the son fell in grief
For, inheritance of wealth had been his belief.
He had travelled all the way there
Not because he in the least cared;
All he ever wanted was his father’s wealth
And marry his love on May’s twelfth.
Then the will continued
For, it hadn’t been fully viewed.
“As no one here is particularly the he
The owner of my money will always be me.
I want it buried in my grave,
Well, except for a penny save
That’ll pass on to my only son
Who came to visit this old one.”
And then he fell, still and dead
It’s fifty years since he was wed.
The son then realised his mistake
If he’d cared, it would’ve been for his own sake
For, his father had been a wise one
Who had aptly punished his son.
P. S. I know I am not posting as regularly as I had meant to at first but I started writing two different things but never got anywhere with them. And then I just let things go on their own for a whike which soon turned into a week and then I was feeling too guilty so I fetched an old poem of mine. All those harsh critics out there, I’m only human!