My Magical Faerie Horse
A magical faerie horse pranced on my window sill.
Waking me up when she whispered “Hey Bill”.
Purple with sheer happiness, she ate pickles dill.
She told me this immediately, then ate her fill.
I did not even know those pickles were there I said.
She laughed so hard her mane flew off her head.
Are you real? I asked her as I blinked from my bed.
Or have I died? Am I a spirit or kind of dead?
The magical faerie horse comes nightly now.
She prances around; her shows are a wow.
She still calls me Bill, which seems rather odd.
And sometimes she brings me her cat, Ole Clod.
Ole Clod is a terror, who calls me Luke.
He is a mouse-chaser, whom you cannot rebuke.
You can try to ignore him but he’ll claw you up.
He usually arrives after a late chili sup.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment