The splatter of raindrops

Grim clouds in the sky

A storm late in coming

Birds on the fly

The mud level’s rising

Puddles are growing

You can tell that it’s winter

Without even knowing

But out in the weather

The ponies stand

Manes plastered down

On the wet, wet land

Coats fluffy as can be

Tails sodden in the storm

As long as full manes are long

Thick stout coats

Will keep them warm



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