I was sat at the front of the cast iron horse
and with Tom and his sister and Nicky behind
we had rocked till the plaything went hight as we could
when it smacked on my jaw with its hard metal head.
An incisors had cut through my lip, and so blood
freely flowed from my mouth to my chin, where it paused,
and then dropped on the crown of the dangerous nag,
dripping sticky and red on the skull of our steed.
Soon my daddy had lifted me up from that mount
and we drove to the doctor’s to suture my lip
where a needle was painfully pulled through my skin
and it felt as though cables were stitching my gob.
–––
Did our play in my youth, though unsafe, have more thrill
than does zipping on wires over bark covered ground
or the climbing of ropes that are hung from a pole
and of swaying with swings that don’t go all around?
Every age has its dangers, unique to itself,
and so children will always find dangerous fun,
though as parents we worry as much as ours did,
now the playgrounds are safer whatever we fear.
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 12:32 PM UTC
I was sat at the front of the cast iron horse
and with Tom and his sister and Nicky behind
we had rocked till the plaything went hight as we could
when it smacked on my jaw with its hard metal head.
An incisors had cut through my lip, and so blood
freely flowed from my mouth to my chin, where it paused,
and then dropped on the crown of the dangerous nag,
dripping sticky and red on the skull of our steed.
Soon my daddy had lifted me up from that mount
and we drove to the doctor’s to suture my lip
where a needle was painfully pulled through my skin
and it felt as though cables were stitching my gob.
–––
Did our play in my youth, though unsafe, have more thrill
than does zipping on wires over bark covered ground
or the climbing of ropes that are hung from a pole
and of swaying with swings that don’t go all around?
Every age has its dangers, unique to itself,
and so children will always find dangerous fun,
though as parents we worry as much as ours did,
now the playgrounds are safer whatever we fear.
Another story from my childhood. With Peter Bowron's help the poem is now in anapestic tetrameter. This better captures the rocking motion of the horse.
The Original version is below with a da DUM da da DUM da da DUM da da DUM meter (iamb followed by three anapaests )
I sat at the front of the cast iron horse
with Tom and his sister and Nicky behind.
We rocked till the plaything went high as it could
when smack on my jaw went its hard metal head.
Incisors had cut through my lip, and so blood
flowed down from my mouth to my chin, then it gushed
and dropped on the crown of the dangerous nag,
so sticky and red on the skull of our steed.
My daddy then lifted me up from that mount
and drove to the doctor to suture my cut:
the needle was painfully pulled through my skin
it felt as though cables were stitching my gob.
–––
Did play in my youth, though unsafe, have more thrill
than zipping on wires over ground swathed with bark,
and climbing on ropes that are hung from a pole,
or swaying on swings that don’t go all around?
Each age has its dangers, unique to itself,
and children will always find dangerous fun,
so parents still worry as much as they did,
but playgrounds are safer, whatever they fear.