They play a game called Polocrosse
With racquet, horse and ball,
A game of skill and horsemanship,
My God, they know it all.

 But when the season's over,
What will we all do then?
Bush the horse and pack the boots,
And wait 'till they play again.

All the games that I have seen,
In mud and wind and rain,
All the falls that I have watched,
As they lay in so much pain.

But up they get and mount their horse
And the time's blown on once more.
The speaker calls his rundown
And always forgets the score.

How I'd love to play the game,
but following, it's enough,
As I don't know how to ride a horse
And the sport seems so darn rough.

So give me the socials any day
And you'll see me at the bars,
Meeting people and having fun
While the players are the stars.

by Daisy Dee