Our wooden clothes-horse hides itself

Beneath the lowly wash-house shelf -
But why a horse ? I often think;
It doesn't eat! it doesn't drrink !
It has no tail, it has no head,
Only a wooden rail instead !

But sometimes on a washing-day
Our clothes-horse really does look gay;
A goodly, well-appointed steed,
Really to gallop off at need;
With trappings billowing around
And fringes sweeping to the ground.

At times like these I think it looks
Like horses out of story-books;
And if I saw it move to go
I wouldn't dare to whisper "Whoa !"
And if it chose to disappear
It wouldn't seem so very queer.  .  .  .

But so far it has simply stood
A common clothes-horse made of wood.

Elizabeth Fleming