Little dolly on her horse,
     how she rocks back and forth,
chaos upon the others as she pulls strings
     through the room disruptions she brings.

A permeant stitch upon her face
      hiding the reality of mistrust in place,
of what she did to others feelings
      thinking of her own fun instead.

Little toys, patch work dolls
       afraid to lose a stitch or worse.
This nightmare on a wooden horse
       ruining the bedroom of toy and child.

She smiles with glee as the horse says nay
     but she doesn't listen to anyone today
forth and back she doesn't care of who is scared
     then what was not even a thought goes wrong.

But rocking and frolicking has its woes
     as poor little horsy snapped a rocker
and doll fell with quite a tumble
     Mummy came and saw the mess.

Poor little horsy got put in the trash,
      in the corner she does now stay.
As not forgiven for her wayward ways,
      and for rocker that got thrown away.

Remember that what we do has repercussions  
       be it toy or child, we must think first.
For if we are selfish and not thinking of others,
       then it will inevitably be us that is in trouble

I sit at my desk
and look around at my walls
and see eight pieces of art,
all bar two from artists I knew
who were friends in my early days in manhattan,
the city where we were all poor
and came from different places,
miguel from buenos aires in argentina who spoke only spanish
a political refugee who feared being disappeared
and now had a tiny bed in a tiny loft and painted on canvas
I have two of his works
a cactus plant with beautiful plum sized multicolored flowers
and the other entitled the thirsty horse that looks like a demented snarling dog with slanted eyes and teeth to spare but benign enough to be loved by my daughter when aged three,
horsy horsy was her good friend.
katsu from osaka in japan who waited table in a sushi bar
and painted his vision on board,
the desert with flowering saguaro cacti with three tiny men in three tiny cars driving anywhere and nowhere
with three stuck-on labels -
namely: the baby of kangaroo - levi 501 - pronunciation
all significant to him no doubt and guiding us through his vision of pale blue wash with applique.
john from Cleveland, his work the prodigal son with father limned in profile, dull white, dull ochre and matt black
with a mid ground horizontal bar of pinky red for reference,
strongly emotive without shouting.
next is jennifer now in arizona, her work a **** with a weird perspective very red embouchure lips and red ******* and a red scarf with a walled city behind. I love it and can’t say why;
behind an abstract my parents bought at my pleading from a hungry american now mine to ponder and wonder if it is a crucifixion california style,
maybe jesus on acid, I never did find out exactly.
in front a huge print the laughing frogs by karel appel, I bought it from a friend dying of aids, it had no future in his life  and I liked it a lot especially when oncoming death priced it down
and here the odd one out, a big silkscreen print with colour
at my right hand, eye line high and bought in paris france with teenager money, all I had,
a very old woman dressed to the nines, hat with flowers and a little veil,
fox stole, big jet earrings and a steady gaze eyes front, sitting in a café with her right hand near her glass of dark red framboise, enigmatic smile forever; I have never been able to read the signature.
and the last from andrew of chicago a big bold watercolor entitled dusk nyc, company art sold when the company went bankrupt and I was happy to buy it, a painting of the canyon streets of manhattan with cars and cabs and people all like chess knights jumping for position with no check in sight.
These are all my long time favorites,
my go-to works when I am tired and need solace. they never fail to please.

Last night in high fever in midle of night
A dream i have dreamed - so clear and so bright!
In a blaze of glory a castle I've seen
A place where my eyes could never have been.

The purpose of these astonishing walls
And up to the sky - almighty towers
Were, it came out to know  very soon,
For a marvelous princess - a kind of cocoon.

Yes she was the princess
And all was for her
With courage and fearless
Her life was smoother.

But as she grew up she started to notice
That this lovely castle might be just a hospice
A place where she  couldn't and wasn.t herself
A place where she was a book on a shelf.

The king was a great man -
All people knew that
In finding a blame in this man was in vain
Cause all of the efforts secced they may not

He was her salvation
He was her delight,
He showed how she's gorgeous
What means to be loved,
How not to be angry
Her daddy have showed

But there was a problem
A terrible one
The voice of her mother
Was like of a swan.
That means she was quite a little too much
A silence the princess could hear and could touch.

The queen was adored, respected by people
For her mighty knowledge
And power to teach.
But this little princess
Wanted to be listened
And not to receive her lessons or speech.

It.s easy to talk and preach like a prophet
When silence is all your children can hear
That.s why our beauty
Pushed up by the courage
From this famous castle
She will dissapear.

"Today is the day" went out in a moan
This calm four words whisper
Inside was a storm

A storm of frustration,
Of fear and of guilt
In her head of child
A plan she had built.

She took her white horse
Her favourite one
That flew like the wind
Like this it.s begun

"The worst's the begining"
 She said in her hat
Now here on this white horse
 She understands that.

The plan was ambitious, well structured  and good
To go in the woods as much as she could
To walk, to run, to fly if she can
Til' she sees no more a foot of a man.

Now princess is free like a dove in the skye
Towards new adventures she's ready to fly
Cause heavens are with her whetever she goes
Thinking she is lucky from eyebrows to toes.

But here it will come a junction or so
And the little princess didn.t know where to go.
She's asking her horse for a wise quick advice
When this one responded without thinking twice:

 -Tell me jolly princess, where do you want to go?
- An honest response to your question would be "I don.t know"
- Then pardoned might be my humble response,
'n this case don.t matter the road you will choose!

That.s why i like having smarter than me
A friend that besides me appears to be.
And if one day i may stumble and fall
He's there to sustain and listen my call.

The days went by, then months as  years
The princess was passing from joy into tears
She felt all alone, forgotten and lost
The rainbow of dreams was covered by frost.

-Tell me my horsy, cause in your words i find gain,
What is the reason for all of this pain?
- Maybe so you would pray for strenght!
- And what is the reason for the strenght?
-Maybe so you would not lose hope!
- And what is the reason for the hope?
- Just so you could face the world!

Child, the time has come for you to fly
Just like an eagle on the sky
And use ur instinct as your guide
That navigates through  pathes you glide.
You where made do have the greatest flight!

For sure they'll find you all those monsters
That drags you back from where go
Don.t listen them, cause they are lying
"You'll never make it" is their motto.

But the voice of truth tells you a different story!
The voice of truth says
"Do not be afraid"
It says again
"You are a child of glory!"
So keep on running,
'Till you reach the end!"

Then i woke up and all was gone
The horse, the princess,
Me alone.
But i am sure that outside there
The princess is indeed somewhere
Enthusiastic, brave and strong
Looking in this world all along
A comfort place to call it home.

Once more this year  I lure my little horse
to step the trailer's high unstable place:
a squishy, soft and noisy, tingling force
on hooves, accustomed to a solid base.

Off sand and dirt and even welcome  grass,
step up he surely will, since I can bring
remembrance in his horsy mind to pass:
the snack before, and on his haunch a sting.

So up he flies to ride the road with me
to set a hoof  into the jamboree.