A.G.E's Joint

Troubadour and troublemaker Shillelagh at his side Into town he rode Looking for a guide He from the auld sod Not knowing the space Came right up On the barrel race Spirited contest it was Until a sorrel found A washout Hard against the ground The pony did stumble And threw the Jock With everyone wondering Would he get back to the dock? The stranger dismounted From his steed To address The Jockey’s need In a brogue he asked “Are ye hurt?” The Jockey blinked “Not at all, you Jerk” “Stand a little Out of the sun.  I can’t see The lady’s bun.” So, the Irishman Remounted his steed Knowing again it never pays To do a good deed.