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)