It was Sir Marmaduke A. Chumleigh who got the riding craze;
His middle name was Algernon; he had some funny ways;
He hated anyone to contradict - he had no time for fools,
Was arrogant, eccentric, and thought he knew the rules
Of every game and sport that had ever been invented.
He knew them all he said; his pride was never dented.
He'd quote the laws of soccer and always watched World Cup;
How many teams played rugby and when full-time was up;
He knew the runs and wickets in lots of cricket matches
And even who had taken the finest one-day catches.
He was passionate for tennis and golf he knew about,
Was familiar with all fisticuffs and who had been knocked out.
You could ask about Olympics and who had nearly won
And whether Marathons were much too far to run.
He knew about the training runs for all of sports' elite
And whether any champion had ever faced defeat.

Now Chumleigh knew a lot - but did he play himself, you ask?
For fun, one day, he gave himself a little sporting task:
To challenge whether, just by chance, he might make the national team
Of riders galloping on horses over gate and stream.
He was a country gent so riding horseback was, of course,
An easy thing for him to do - he'd never fallen off a horse!

He wandered to his garage, where hanging on the door
He kept his riding breeches and new boots upon the floor;
He'd a brand new deep blue/purple jacket used for skiing
Which always made him feel a superhuman being.

So togged up in his finery he mounted on his steed,
Dug in his heels, grabbed at the reins and got the nag to speed.
But as the horse got to the track it bolted clean away
And Chumleigh, fearing for his life, was ready then to pray.
The horse strode wildly over logs and splashed in every creek,
The rider falling from its back and feeling very weak.
A mile or so along the way he really lost his hold;
Chumleigh fell and hit the ground and rolled and rolled and rolled.

He lay in painful agony spread out upon the ground;
The horse ran on for many miles but slackened not his bound
While Chumleigh lay a-writhing and wondered if his head
Was really still attached to him or whether he was dead.
A plaintive wail, a sob or two, and curses three or four
Were heard to echo through the bush for he was mighty sore.
He noticed too that many stars were shining in his eye
- At least a hundred thousand, and questions such as: "Why?"
He pulled himself upon his feet and started in a daze
To drag his body through the woods but it was all a maze.
The horse, of course, had cantered back - he never missed Chumleigh;
He hated being ridden and it was nearly time for tea.

When Chumleigh got to thinking about his awful ride
He wondered if his horse had really ever tried
To live up to his name, unusual though it was,
For years ago he'd named him 'Push Me-Pull You' because
He'd read it in a book you see and it sounded rather fun.
But a horse with such a funny name will not know how to run,
To gallop, trot or canter or even how to walk.
The horse will say, quite naturally: "What a lot of silly talk."
So Chumleigh's back to storing facts about his favourite sports
And being extra careful about riding of all sorts.
He'd rather keep his body in a truly healthy state
Than people shout and tell him that his riding isn't great!

A piece of writing to include all the words (underlined) selected by each member of the group. I added the further challenge to write mine in Banjo Patterson style - rhyming couplets.