The clip clop of shoes went down the lane.
No one thought the wearer, was strange.
The shoes however were shiny and new,
nails to keep them on, and feet safe too.
The wearer so handsome and very proud,
nodded his head and never spoke out loud.
Carrying his friend aboard his strong back,
the shoe maker kept his feet, safely on track.
They traveled together all of their days,
camping together, sleeping on the hay.
Many pairs of shoes, expertly attached.
The old ones collected, in a huge batch.
The wearer was honored, for his service.
Never a day was he, frankly very nervous.
He had nerves of steel to match his shoes.
Nerves stable, they never became unglued.
A parade horse such a mobile a steed,
wears his shoes proudly this’ so, indeed.
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