Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Favorite Pony

  Am                         F
Imagine a merry-go-round
Gm7                        C
In a Kingdom of Fantasy
         Am                   F
With ponies of exotic hues
         Gm7                       F
The favorite being Burgundy
          Gm7                F
One pony was left unpainted
        Bb                      F
She had a fine white grain
Other ponies laughed and said
F                  C            F
Imagination was too plain

You may be the Favorite Pony
On the merry-go-round
Gm7             Bb
But I need a love
        F                   C
With feet on solid ground
          F               A7
True love has no limits
     Bb           F
Imagination runs
When you reach for the golden ring
    F             C             F
In the halo ‘round the sun

The children all loved Burgundy
They would rush to her side
Yellow, Orange and Navy Blue
Were the runners up for rides
In time the favorite ponies
Suffered from wear and tear
But not Imagination
The pure unpainted mare

You may be the favorite pony…

At last, a Royal Entourage
Took the young Prince to the fair
And when he saw
        the merry-go-round
He ran to the pure white mare
Imagination was chosen
She kept her heart so pure
Through countless generations
Her legend will endure

You may be…

© 1997 Stefan des Laurier


Long ago, in a Kingdom of Fantasy, there was a merry-go-round just beyond a castle that overlooked the clouds. Kids would line up to ride Burgundy,
the deep red pony.

The ponies were all painted exotic colors—all, that is, except for Imagination. Even though Imagination was carved out of a fine white wood, kids still avoided her.

At night when the moon shone upon the ponies they seemed to come to life. "My paint has rubbed off from so many kids riding me," they'd say, as if their patches of chipped paint were badges of honor.
This bothered Imagination, but she wasn't going to feel sorry for herself. She was kind to the other ponies — but they were only concerned with their own popularity. "Being popular is not so important," Imagination thought. "Maybe I'm destined for some one special.”
Then one night something mysterious appeared in the sky. It was a halo that surrounded the moon. Imagination looked up wistfully: "I wish a prince would come here and choose to ride on me.

Time passed and the Royal Entourage came to the carnival and stopped at the merry-go-round. Sure enough, the young Prince ran to Imagination and jumped on the saddle.
It was no wonder the heir to the throne picked the unpainted pony. Imagination looked clean and bright compared to the other ponies — with their chipped paint and discarded gum stuck in their manes.

The young Prince was delighted to ride Imagination and stayed for another turn when the music stopped. The painted ponies were shocked that the Prince hadn’t chosen any of them.

Word spread throughout the Kingdom that the Prince had ridden the plain
white pony and not the painted ones. Imagination wasn’t in line to be the favorite pony —She was destined to become a treasured heirloom in the Royal Palace.

©1997 Stefan des Lauriers


I Imagined there was a carousel
On the shores of a starry night
And a mime in a follow spot
Being swept up by the light

The waves wash up a seashell
He would it it to his ear
And with a smile spinning around
The carousel disappears

What happened to the carousel

Did it get swept away
And the mime who gave each mademoiselle
His invisible bouquets

Imagine feeling like a clown
Your face is fading in the rain
When your good times disappear
And then come round again

That's how a painted pony feels
When her colors chip and fade
Just give me one faithful friend
And let it rain on my parade

What happened to the carousel
Did it get swept away
And the mime who gave each mademoiselle
His invisible bouquets

Imagine riding a comet

Through a carousel of space
Seeing planets in a pirouette
Making up the galaxies face
If you get dizzy as a pinwheel
From all the ups and downs
Just wait till you see true love
Smiling through a painted frown

What happened to the carousel
Did it get swept away
And the mime who gave each mademoiselle
His invisible bouquets

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