The Ponies in the Poppies  By:  Isabelle Frehner There are ponies in the poppies, But there's one with a black-brown mane, Who had been strolling in the grasses, Waiting for the midday train, She does it every morning, And every week at that, I see it as I walk to school, And when I pat the Greever's cat, One day I heard a distant 'toot!' And the sound of thundering hooves, It seemed as though the pony wondered, Just how the big thing moves, Today I saw to my surprise, That the pony was not there, But she was playing, romping and eating, With a tall black-brown mare!