On My Way To the Pub

On my way to the pub I was walking to the pub at sundown when I reach my destination the last pink rays on the sky was vanishing, a promise of a sunny tomorrow. On the road, I was overtaken by a horse that neighed politely, on its back, a crow sat using a foul language. On the way back home I was late had been playing poker with matches, I lost a box. I met the horse it offered to take me home the foul crow hade gone. I stabled the horse in the garage gave it bread and water. Next morning it was gone. The crow sat on the window ledge demanding a silver soup spoon and an assortment of nuts.