Mud, mud, fabulous glorious mud,
Nothing better to enjoy with your bud.
Rub it on my nose and on my chin,
Thick dollops or smeared on thin.
Grind wet mud into my long mane,
Oh I do love the bright orange stain.
Trot through the mud to create a bog,
For rotivation dance about and jog.
Roll in the softest wettest spot,
Use your tail to flick and splot.
Us horses sure do love the dirt,
So like to share it on your shirt.
My humans make me smile,
As they clearly think mud is vile.
They slip and nearly loose a welly,
And say it makes their clothes smelly.
They never mind my mud pleasures,
Their love for me is beyond measures.
They sometimes brush away the grime,
To check underneath is good and fine.