Leaving behind the rush of the city,
She returned to a quieter life.
She’d had her time as a mother,
And now would be the perfect wife.

The garden, it bloomed,
The house looked so pretty,
But she was so sad,
It was such a pity.

A hobby, she needed to do,
Something meaningful and fulfilling,
She tried some Tai Chi and Boxing classes,
But her body was old and unwilling.

Out came the paints, the crocheting hooks,
She downloaded a pattern or two.
But nothing inspired this old gal,
She needed something new.

The challenges she set herself daily,
Didn’t even giver a flicker,
Of anything that would be fun,
And time didn’t go any quicker.

Then she discovered the thing,
That would take her through her courses.
She started to go the stables,
And dabbled with riding the horses.

Now she is older but fitter,
Having a new lease of life,
Yes the house is a mess,
And she’ll never be the perfect wife.

The garden still blooms unattended,
The children think she has gone crazy,
But happy as Larry she is,
This horse riding little old lady.