Aisling Valentine's Getting Married

Benny, Aisling and me

I'm a pie-bald pony, which means I'm black and white.
I'm the only pony who can read and write.
Here's a photo of my friend Aisling
who's named after a saint
Valintine is her surname
and she loves me without constraint.

Aisling's ridden me quite often
without much success
I give her a fools' pardon
as she falls off me with some finesse!

I'm being a little bit cheeky
and I must apologise.
It's in my nature to be a bit naughty
and overly dramatise!

I know Aisling and her daughter, but not that poor Ian bloke.

He better like spending money and get used to being broke.
They are two special ladies who I rather like,
although Aisling's not much of a rider
and better on a bike!

Aisling

I'm a pie-bald pony and I have news for you.
Aisling's getting married and Ian's to say, "I do".
The crowd will be cheering when the deed is done;
and they will be off to have a life that's lovey
and maybe make another one!

Brave Dartmoor Mare

I felt that you should see this,
though there'll be a tear in your eye.
This is about a brave Dartmoor pony

Vets confirmed that she would have been aware of her failing health

who saved her foal before she died.

I wonder what she taught her before she had to leave;
which plants were good to eat, and which ones to avoid?

Having led her to the owner did she whisper in her ear
"My child this is a place of safety and you have nothing to fear."  


This mare led her newborn foal across Dartmoor to her owners' farm. Vets believe that she was aware of her failing health and fought illness and exhaustion to lead her foal to the care of  Lorraine Chambers.  Now the orphaned foal is being hand-reared by neighbour Charlotte Faulkner of the Dartmoor Hill Pony Association, who said yesterday that it was a remarkable story and the foal is alive today because of the instincts of her mother.

“Both mare and foal would have been out there on the moor for the whole summer and would have been brought off the moor in the annual round-up in October,” she said. “She must have known what would have happened to her foal if she had died so she brought her in.”

Oh dear; I've done it again!

Oh dear, I was eating.
Now I'm getting told off.
Two-legs is puffing; so obviously cross.
I've broke through the fence, which was keeping me safe
away from deep water; a dangerous place.

Called back to the gate, with my hunger suppressed
I reluctantly obeyed, noticing Two-legs was "dressed".
Dressed not for riding, nor dressed to muck-out
Two-legs was dressed in high heels

Dressed to "go out"!

I'm now locked in my stable
where I will come to no harm.
Two-legs is out to a party
and I'm her 5 o'clock alarm!