Darling

Dreampony No. 2

I lay upon my bed
Wrapped in a soft patchwork quilt
Shrouded by the eerie darkness of night
Waiting for sleep to come.

Presently I'm plodding along a dusty dirt road
Fields of tall corn swaying to and fro on either
side
Everything turning golden in the coming dusk
The road is well-trodden by many cows and hogs,
By many teams of horses and oxen, and by me.

Absent-mindedly I open the creaky barn door
And relish in the scent of hay and stall.
My eyes search for a pair of ears and a forelock.
I find them dancing over the Dutch door
Neighing whinny after whinny.
Whether it's for me or oats,
I simply do not care!

"Darling girl!"
I stroke my little blue-roan pony's nose,
Combing her forelock with my fingers.
She lays her head over my shoulder as you know a darling will.
I take a soft purple halter from its hook,
Darling sticks her nose in of her own will,
And I lead her out to the paddock.
"Enjoy yourself, baby.
I will soon return."
Dropping the rope, I close the gate.
Looking over my shoulder as I exit,
I see Darling drop her head and hear the ruthless
yanking of grass.

Back in the barn,
I muck out her stall, fast as I can.
I bring in fresh hay,
Wash and refill the water bucket,
And refill the manger with oats.
I check the tack,
Bring the hoofpick and brush and currycomb,
And run for Darling!

Darling stands placid as ever,
Munching slowly on a bit of oats as I move about in
my routine manner.
First the currycomb,
Then the soft brush,
Then the forelock, mane, and tail,
Then picking the hooves,
Then "Ready Darling?"
On slips the hackamore
And she follows me out.

In the paddock,
I make the leap up onto her bare back.
We move off as one
Going back through the open gate onto the dirt road.

Oh, there's nothing like a night ride!
There's the solid, smooth gait of my dear pony
under me;
There's the wonderous beauty of the setting sun.
Then the stars come out to sing their twinkly melodies with us.
The corn sways gently in the soft breeze,
Boasting ripening ears for my pony's future treat.
We weave through the labyrinth buried in our own
beautiful thoughts
Dwelling on golden moments life brings
Until our cows come plodding home.
Reluctantly, I turn Darling's head homeward.

I rub her down,
Put the tack away,
Tend to the cows,
And give my girl a final pat goodnight.

She nickers softly as if to say
"Tonight was my pleasure,
And I hope yours also.
I chose you from a thousand.
I will soon return!"

I gasp and say
"How could you return, my Darling?
Have we not been together since you were foaled?"

Silly me! I scold myself,
You know ponies can't talk.
I pat her again and turn to go.

Back on the well-trodden road
Past the swaying labyrinth of corn.
A full moon has risen and lights my way.

Suddenly my eyes flick open
To see the rising sun through my window.
The sun is shining, rosy and inviting.
Immediately I close them, begging for my dreampony back.

BUT IT'S TOO LATE!
I can only recreate the dirt road and swaying corn.
A new day has dawned;
The night's long gone,
AND THE DREAM WITH IT.

It is no use really.
I must awake now
And anticipate nightfall.