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04/03/11(Sun)20:58 No.24821511
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 There was a merry wanderer,
a messenger, a mail-mare,
she grabbed her half-full mail sack
to wander with, and had in her
a load of yellow muffins
and some apples for her provender;
she also had the mail (of course!),
some postcards and some white letters.
She called the winds of Cloudsdale-town
with cargoes in to carry her
across the rivers seventeen
that lay between to tarry her.
She landed all in loneliness
where stonily the pebbles on
the running river Mare-ilyn
goes merrily for ever on.
She journeyed then through Everfree
to Shadow-keep that dreary lay,
and under hill and over hill
went roving still a weary way.
She tarried for a little while
in little isles that lonely lay,
and found there naught but blowing grass;
and so at last the only way
she took, and turned, and coming home
with muffin-crumbs, to memory
her messages came, and errand too!
For Ditzy-doo (or "Derpy Hooves")
had plumb forgot them, journeying
and herp-derp-ing, a wanderer.
So now she must depart again,
And start again her mail-route,
for ever still a messenger,
a passenger, a tarrier,
a-roving as the feather does,
a weather-driven mail-mare. |
