Whispering Horses

Whispering horses, can’t get them on the blower
Hoofs on the sand make a poor man glower
Robo-call victims try to hang up politely
When do you want it? at least twice nightly

Quiet horses hardly ever trot
Spraying the weed like an internet hotspot
Schlepping in Bedminster like Old lady Threadneedle
Spinning like a spinster on the sphincter of what-not

Helen of Troy launched a thousand jet-skis
Surf like a beach-boy on the sandhill to freedom
Come to a standstill if you hit a rock
End up with a sockful of bones in your sock