Howard wakes, a scratch, a yawn. Pitty-pat of toes to greet the dawn. Gracie rolls, she leaps, she frolics, all her moves are hyperbolic!
The horses call to greet the day, what they really say is, give us hay. The barn is warm, the smell is earth, whilst on I go adding to their girth.
Morning on the farm, life knows no harm, beats poetic cadence by an arm!