Dude

Dude

Dreampony No. 5

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

The quiet stillness and the soft patchwork quilt fade away.
Now I snuggle in a sleeping bag,
Soothed by the sounds of cicadas and the crisp coolness.
Leaves rustle and bullfrogs croak.
I open one eye and marvel at the stars.
Dim ones, bright ones, single ones, and pairs.
Little dipper and Orion.
I watch the moon rise bright and full.

It is time.
This is the best day of all!
I rise slowly, roll up my sleeping bag and stuff it into my backpack.
I dig out a few biscottis out of a side pocket and hastily munch away
As I jog over to a big tree.

There,
Tied to a lower bough,
There is my pride and joy.
“hey Dude, how do you do?”
Reaching out a hand I feel his hot breath.
My sorrel dreampony knickers softly in greeting.

I pat his neck,
Throw a blanket over his back,
Lash on supplies,
Slip on his ring snaffle,
Heave my backpack over my shoulder,
Untie Dude and mount!

“Let’s go, boy!
Dude, you know the way.”
Ears pricked forwards, head held high
My pride and joy prances away.

He has not lost that youthful spring to his stride over the years.
The full moon lights our way
And a carpet of leaves covers our trail.

Mile after mile,
Hour after hour,
Nothing spoils the delicious solitude.
Me and my pony,
Me and my rider.
I enjoy the scenery and the night,
I enjoys the company of rider and the night.

Dude stops to munch on some wild myrtle.
I do not hurry him and he moves on.
Now we come to a creek.
Dude takes a drink before crossing.
Now here is a clearing full of wonderful tall clover.
Munch munch, rip-yank munch munch.
And he moves on when he is ready.

The moon wanes,
The trees thin out.
I cluck to Dude and he comes to rest.
I slide down, fill a feedbag with grain
And slip it over his head.
How I do relish the sound of a pony enjoying grain!

I struggle out of my backpack,
Pull out my sleeping bag and unroll it.
I take Dude’s saddlebags off and brush him down.
His tail swishes as the first morning flies begin to swarm.
“Well Dude, thanks for a relaxing ride.
Go and roll and graze a bit, my boy.”
I pat his strong shoulder and he sidles away.

I gather twigs and dry wood,
Strike a fire and toss together a salad.
Sitting down on my sleeping bag, I eat.
Then I pull out a good book and read awhile.
Soon I will tie Dude up for the day
And sleep a few hours before moving on.

Daytime rides are wonderful too!
Sadly, my ride is nearing its end.
We will likely reach our destination before sundown.

The cool, crisp air of night,
The soft, crunchy carpet of leaves,
The crunch-clop crunch-clop of Dude’s hooves,
The rip-yank, munch munch of his grazing,
Even the print of my book fade away.
I barely register a faraway whinny.
A soft patchwork quilt and warm stillness slip into existence.

Yes, the old dream again.
With a satisfied sigh,
I roll over and fall into a fitful sleep.