Ponygirl

I'd love it if I had you every day    
and night like this, tending to and      
having you serve me as my pony.    
     
It would become our world, you'd      
nuzzle my hand as I'd hold the      
bridle and bit before you'd feel it      
     
slip on and into your mouth, your hair      
would flip as you'd toss your head      
with the spirit of a filly,    
     
legs moving with bend'd knees,      
tucked in and raised high with tight      
leather leggings laced up your thighs.    
     
Anyone would know as I guide you      
by the reins, to win, place or show,      
as you'd willingly prance for me.    
     
Tiny bells shimmer with each step,    
jingle from pierced, pear-shape breasts      
dancing till you come to rest when I tug.    
     
Now on goes the saddle on which I will      
straddle, with beaded quirt firmly      
in hand, and I promise it won't hurt    
     
where it lands, and if it does, I'll kiss it      
all well and croon you to sleep, with      
bright plumage curled around my feet.      
   
   
©2015-2016 Jade Pandora    
     
The subject of this poem is based on the fetish practice of pony play.    
     
Preview piece:  Original mousework art by Jade Pandora on MSPaint, 2003