This poem actually happened, and I felt so terrible about getting everyone up for an emergency on, of all nights, Christmas Eve. "Bert" is short for "Roberta", but if anyone called my friend and mentor by her given name, they better duck and run. Bert is a good friend, though I haven't seen her in years. Her daughter Wendy must be in her 40's by now, and she grew up to be quite a horsewoman herself. Bert was also matron of honor at my wedding.
Here's the first two stanzas to give you a taste of my poetry:
Bertís words hit hard, and I hung up the phone. Time to get dressed for a drive to the farm. My mare had colic, the vet on his way. Ice slicked the roads, but the car would be warm.
Stars shone above in a crisp icy sky. Everything quiet. Itís late Christmas Eve. The drive took time, but I made it just fine, My mareís distress was so easy to see.
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