My First Pony

Written by: Charles Clive

Miss Garner, Miss Garner. I HATE your Gymkhana, I loathe every second it's run. I dread all those horses and obstacle courses, and everyone else having fun. Now Mummy is frantic, the panic gigantic; my pony won't go in the box. She's shouting and screaming (and often blaspheming), when Dobbin sits down on his hocks. We stop in a field, by others well heeled, their lorries all parked in neat rows. My Dobbin looks grotty, all rumpled and spotty; their ponies are plaited in bows. I get in Show Jumping my usual dumping, when Dobbin refuses the last. I'm beat in the Bending (and cry without ending); my pony is not very fast. You're calling my name? Is this all a game? And now you are pointing at me? What me in the line, at Prize Giving time? Oh, my? Have you answered my plea? Miss Garner, Miss Garner. I LOVE your Gymkhana! It's been such a jolly good thrash. The Rosette I won has made it such fun; my Dobbin has got a bran mash! ~ For Francine Roberts' "Children in Rhyme" Contest by Charles Clive.