AL AND BARNEY
Patsy Kennedy Lain
Windy, cool morn, sun brightly shining, cars move slowly down the dirt path,
people climb from their cars, bringing out wooden easels, paints.
Cold, bundled, they near white fences, peruse the many fenced pastures,
scour the area, watching for a perfect scene to paint.
Cameras flash, pictures are taken, socializing the painters watch movements,
and stand positioned with brushes and paints in hand.
Two ponies, Al and Barney, saunter their way to the white picket-like fence,
that surrounds their part of the pasture near the red barn.
Sure one of the painters was carrying or bringing some food,
the ponies hung on the inside fenced parameter hoping to be fed.
Al, the white pony and larger, Barney the brown, shorter and friendlier,
plead with those big beautiful longing brown eyes for attention.
Barney’s huge brown eyes blinked lovingly, as one painter leaned on the fence,
gently caressing them both, talking sweetly to them.
Both ponies pleaded with their eyes, gesturing for continuous attention,
receiving pats and rubs many times, but not enough.
Gaining the attention of the painters, the two ponies continued bumping the
painters for caresses, but there was no food or treats, just touches.
The painters moved from the fence, the ponies watched, paint brushes began
dabbling onto the canvases, creation leaped suddenly forward.
Some of the painters painted, one drew with pencil, another used pastels,
but all were being creative in the pastures of the equine rescue.
Each time one of the painters took a break, walking to the fence,
Al and Barney rushed over for another rub, a simple touch.
The sketching painter with drawing pad leaned on the fence catching a pose,
nibbling Barney butted eagerly for some action, trying to eat the pad.
The painters painted there in the pasture for the entire afternoon,
cooler wind arrived and began blowing around them.
Al and Barney watched with hunger and sadness as the painters packed to go,
climbed in their cars and left them standing there.
But, they knew someone would return as they had been rescued,
here they had shelter, friends and food.
Patsy Kennedy Lain
Windy, cool morn, sun brightly shining, cars move slowly down the dirt path,
people climb from their cars, bringing out wooden easels, paints.
Cold, bundled, they near white fences, peruse the many fenced pastures,
scour the area, watching for a perfect scene to paint.
Cameras flash, pictures are taken, socializing the painters watch movements,
and stand positioned with brushes and paints in hand.
Two ponies, Al and Barney, saunter their way to the white picket-like fence,
that surrounds their part of the pasture near the red barn.
Sure one of the painters was carrying or bringing some food,
the ponies hung on the inside fenced parameter hoping to be fed.
Al, the white pony and larger, Barney the brown, shorter and friendlier,
plead with those big beautiful longing brown eyes for attention.
Barney’s huge brown eyes blinked lovingly, as one painter leaned on the fence,
gently caressing them both, talking sweetly to them.
Both ponies pleaded with their eyes, gesturing for continuous attention,
receiving pats and rubs many times, but not enough.
Gaining the attention of the painters, the two ponies continued bumping the
painters for caresses, but there was no food or treats, just touches.
The painters moved from the fence, the ponies watched, paint brushes began
dabbling onto the canvases, creation leaped suddenly forward.
Some of the painters painted, one drew with pencil, another used pastels,
but all were being creative in the pastures of the equine rescue.
Each time one of the painters took a break, walking to the fence,
Al and Barney rushed over for another rub, a simple touch.
The sketching painter with drawing pad leaned on the fence catching a pose,
nibbling Barney butted eagerly for some action, trying to eat the pad.
The painters painted there in the pasture for the entire afternoon,
cooler wind arrived and began blowing around them.
Al and Barney watched with hunger and sadness as the painters packed to go,
climbed in their cars and left them standing there.
But, they knew someone would return as they had been rescued,
here they had shelter, friends and food.
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Patsy's plein air sketch from her first outing with OOPS 1-20-08
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