Saddle Up
"Hey, Sir Stallion."
"Hay?"
"No, just hey, as 'How the hell are ya?'"
"Who are ya?"
"A mare, Gov'nor."
"A Mayor?"
"Er, uh, close enough."
"Whatcha want?"
"Ya wanna play?"
"Pray fer what?"
"Not PRAY – Play!"
"OK. Play what?"
"Play horse and let you mount me."
Sir Stallion wanting, longing
thought a moment, rare
peered into loving eyes
of blinking Mare's stare,
waited – thought more and waited –
forming No, or Yes – just what to say –
POSSIBILITIES – he thought,
but hoarsely stated, as he ought:
"Neighhhhhhh!," he whinnied, "Neighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 534 times
Written on 2007-02-01 at 00:20
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