My stumbling course,

As a horse,

Is determined by the being.

A creature so queer

That you wouldn’t dare go near.

Though really worth seeing.

The fur is just shy of pink,

It usually brings a nice drink.

And a snack that attends.

Two legs carry it to my bidding

And I am not fibbing!

But alas it mends,

My aching tummy,

With mouthfuls so yummy.

So I ask you,

What in the hay feeds me?

An answer I can’t see,

But my belly is full, and that will do.