Precariously Placed Pony Poems Picturing Plenty of Pheelings

Zecora was a bit of a whore-a
She used to live in Zamora
She had legs like a barn door-a
They'd open for any explora

Popped out thirty foals or more-a
The elders thought it was all a bore-a
So they banished her to the pony core-a
To finish her labor-a