The Poet and the Pony
“Ah, now… let me see here… oh, hello dears! How might you be doing on this fine a mornin’? Ah, now, you have come to hear… or presently, read my story ah? Well, let me see… oh! How about I tell you the story about the Poet and the Pony! Now, that is one of my favorite stories… it was one of the many that was told to me as I was a youngster like you! Listen, as I tell you the begginin’ of this awesomely awesome… adventure! It all started out, on a little road called the Beggars Road to Dreams… now that may seem like a silly name to you. But, I can assure you that that is what its name is.” Narrator clears throat. “Anyways, it all started out, on a little road called the Beggars Road to Dreams. That’s where the Poet was a walkin’ and a talkin’…
“What a beautiful day, in the month of May! How shiny is the sun, for a time of such fun!” He quoted to himself as he drew in a long, and cool breathe. “A shame it is… a shame it tis’… to waste such a day with rhymin’! But it is surely better than mimin’!” he chuckled to himself as he wiped another tear that began to fill up his eye lids. “Don’t you think so Henry? But it sounds kind of funny?” Then he scratched his long, grey beard in deep thought, and then replied to himself, “No, no, no… Don’t you think so… little bunny? But it sounds kind of funny! Yes, now that’s better!” He agreed to himself with an emptied mind as he studied the little rabbit that was sunning himself under a raspberry bush.
A smile began to spread onto the old poet’s lips. As he saw another rabbit, and from the looks of it… seemed to be a baby rabbit. That hopped onto the daddy rabbit’s stomach playfully. As he only wished that he could just understand animals, and their language. But he shooed the thought of as quickly as it had come, for he knew that that was simply impossible!
“A very foolish and selfish thought… besides… that could NEVER happen. Especially, to an old, beggar like… myself!” Now, you must understand that the only place that the old poet never rhymes is in his head… or thoughts you might say!
As he continued his daily walk down his daily road… he never knew, who he would meet, up ahead…
Chapter 1: My wish came true!
As Peter the Poet walked down the steep hill that led to the town of St. Louis, he tripped on a rock that he never noticed because he too deep into his thoughts to notice any of his surroundings. So, as he sat dazed with a cloud of dust crowding him, and finally, after the cloud disappeared, and he could see his surroundings, he saw a little pony that had its bridal caught in a thorn bush.
“How did you get yourself caught… for you have caught ME deep in thought!” he said as he unhooked one of the reins and let the little pony loose. “I always knew that the farmers around here owned horses, but I never expected them to own little ponies!” he thought in perplex.
“Yeah, I can talk about all my secrets in front of you… and you still won’t even know what I’m saying!” the pony replied annoyed and pleased.
“How can you talk? While I’m on a walk! This is so odd… I’m going to listen to my iPod!” he said in shock.
“What in the name of corn-on the-cob… are you talkin’ about? And what’s that funny accent you’re a talkin’?” the Pony asked just about as confused as Peter.
“No, no, no… even though it’s as clear as the snow… this can never be… oh dear me!!!” he said as he tripped on the same rock and fell to the ground yet again.
“Ok, first of all… why in the name of hillbilly hay are you doing? You’re so clumsy… my nana could be called an acrobat compared to ya! Who in the heck are you?” the pony asked Peter again.
“I’m peter, the poet… yep… you know it!”
“But I aint stupid, I knew you were a dumb poet, it’s just… how in the name of the creator do yuh understan’ muh?” he asked confused again.
“I don’t know myself… I”-
“Enough with the stupid rhymin’… just start a talkin’ plain horse please!” he snorted as he pawed the ground impatiently,
“Rhymin isn’t stupid, you want stupid… try that dumb cupid!” Peter said annoyed at the rude comment.
“There’s that dumb rhymin’ again! I’ve had bout ‘nough uh that rhymin’ stuff!” the pony said as he snorted and then turned around towards the woods in effort to go in.
There was a long moment of silence, and then the pony quickly shot back around and stared at the poet for a few moments, and then started to speak.
“Listen cowboy, I might know how to fix you’re… dumb… you’re problem,” he said as he snatched the tip of Peter’s tie, and dragged him towards the town.
As they got there, the pony led Peter into the town squares store, and grabbed a note-pad and pencil in between his teeth.
“Now… you have any green stuff to get these things?”
“What… no way… I’m not going that way!” he said as he turned away reluctantly.
“You want tuh get that problem uh yours fixed? Or what?” he asked as he walked forward as Peter took the stuff and reluctantly flushed a 10 dollar bill out of his pocket, and shoved it to the cashier.
“Thank you, and come back soon!” Peter read the cashier’s name tag that read…
As he studied the young man, who looked about 17 or 18, he noticed all the red pimples and moles that were obvious all over his face of youth.
As they reached the same place they met, Peter sat on a stump a stared at the pony that made him buy the leather notebook, and designer pen.
“Now, why, did you make me, buy… this?” He asked him slowly.
“Well, muh masta’ had the same problem as you. And solved it by writing all of his rhymin’ thoughts down into that there book, and then he a started talkin’ normal again!” he said seriously to the puzzled puzzler that sat in awe at the little horse.
“And that’s all… that made him”-
“Yes, that’s all!” he replied as seriously as before.
“Ok, I’ll give it a shot, on this”-
“Just start writing!” the pony said as he lowered his gaze to the green grass that was taunting him to eat them. “Umm… I’m just gonna eat this here grass. Whiles you do… what you need to do!” He said while he lowered his head and took giant mouthfuls of sweet grass.
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