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April Story & Poem Entries --
Note: Winning stories and poems will be published in Pony Pals Magazine. All entries must be original, meaning that the member who enters them must have written the text. To be eligible the story or poem must have a horse or pony in it someplace. All entries published in the Magazine will earn 500 Wiggins Bucks, the best stories and poems will earn 3000 Wiggins bucks and trophy for the writer.

Can I enter this into the contest? Gone By Nat2 Alise sat by the window in her dark, cold room, wrapped in a gray blanket. She looked through the blurry glass panes, out into the world that matched the room and her heart. Dreary, sad, tired, colorless, ready to give up. Rain soaked everything, and Alise was surprised that the whole state of North Dakota didn’t disintegrate and leave a huge hole in the United States. She put her cold fingers against the cold glass, her lips slightly parted. Her pale honey-brown hair trailed in her eyes and she exhaustedly wiped it away. That's how her heart felt, she thought. Like it would dissolve and leave a big hole in her chest. Well, maybe not all her heart. Just the part Amber had been in. 'I can't do anything else, Alise. I can't do it anymore, and Amber is too exhausted to continue. She's going to give up. She's going to die. The freshly-turned earth pile in the large green pasture was fast turning to mud. Oh well, thought Alise mistily, too late to put any flowers on Amber's grave. Amber never liked flowers anyway. They always made her sneeze. Creakily, the fourteen-year-old climbed from the windowsill and pulled the blanket tighter around her. Her parents were gone, somewhere in town at work, going on with their lives because they'd known Amber as a beast of burden, a distraction in their daughter's busy life. Alise lay down on her bed, and somewhere in the dark, cold house, something creaked. Cat paws moved over the floor and Missy went down the hallway, golden fur a bright flash in the gloomy home. Amber's whinny cut through Alise's grieving haze, as loud and sharp as though she were still alive. Alise rolled over, curling up in the thin gray blanket, covering her ears. The threatening tears pulsed in her eyes and she held them back once more. She opened her eyes and looked at the wall at the paintings and posters of horses and photos of her and Amber. It isn't fair,  she said at last, the first words she'd spoken in a week. It isn't fair.  The favorite picture among the household was Alise holding a ribbon won due to a beautiful horse sketch entered in the fair. Alise was smiling, and everything seemed right in the world in that square image. But nothing was right. It never would be anymore. Not without Amber. The end	Nat2 & The Price of Valor
2014-04-11 01:43:10
madimsmall Vote to hear part 2 of The Special Pony.	madimsmall & Bruno
2014-04-12 23:17:34
TITLE: Bella and Fiona part 1 By: Varonnica Cock-a-diddle-do! I slowly get up and out of bed. I yawn as a put on my Bunny Slippers and crawl to the Kitchen to my breakfast. Good morning Bella. My mom said. Good morning I say as I stretch and sit on my Heavy Mahogany chair. My dad serves us Bacon and Eggs with a Chocolate Croissant on the side. "I don't want to go to school. Honey you have to". My mom and dad said. "But I feel sick. Its only Friday. My dad replied sternly. My mom says, "Open up", and puts the cold thermometer in my mouth. Oh you are running a 99.3 temperature. It will were down if you stay home". My dad said as he looked at mom. "Okay, you are going to stay home". She said with a concerned look. I will call the school and you stay in your room". "What if I get bored? Then play on your IPAD or Computer. Okay". Then I plop myself on the bed playing on my Tablet. Cock-a-diddle-do! Another morning started and I took my own temperature and it was normal. I put on My pants, shirt, boots, socks and grab my helmet. Morning Fiona! I hand her a carrot. I put on her saddle, saddle pad, reins, bridle, and saddle bag. Oh I almost forgot my camera! I run back into the house. Mom I'm going to take Fiona on a trail ride. "Okay but be back soon, Morning is short enough". Ok. I grab my camera and mount on Fiona. I click my tongue to urge Fiona on into the forest. Oh Fiona look at that! We seen a Great Horned Owl perched on part of a Oak Tree branch. Those are rare to see, usually they are in their nest or deep in a tree. I snap a picture. Then before we know it, we see the most beautiful thing a person would want to see. A faun birth. I snap a pic again. These are great. We ride back to the house not knowing we were being fallowed. Fiona stopped and picked up her ears. I look around. Its just the wind Fiona. And we picked up the pace. Still being fallowed. Hmm. I'm going to put you in the stable instead of the pasture. The next morning I didn't here a loud Cock-a-diddle-do. I ran outside to the chicken coop and seen the farms roster, Big Mac, Dead. MOM DAD! What's wrong honey? Big Mac is dead. Oh sweetie he was old. No their are teeth marks everywhere on his body. Hmm. It could have been a cat. Lets go and see if we can find tracks. We go outside. Look! My mom pointed out. Yep its a cat alright my dad said. I have seen those tracks in the forest. I know those tracks from anywhere. What is it? Its a---- ------------TO BE CONTINUED------------- Vote to hear the rest of the story! :)	Varonnica & Vizeryn
2014-04-13 16:43:12
TITLE: Never Afraid Again. By: Sunn Kristi was a paralyzed girl. She was paralyzed from the hips down. She used to love horses until one day. Kristi was helping out at her barn one nice spring afternoon. She was helping them move hay bales when a large hay bale from the hay loft, fell down on top of her. She was taken to the ER and soon after, she was announced paralyzed. Kristi hated horses now. She refused to go to the barn and tore all her horse posters down. She got rid of all her horse-related things. Her mother was reading a newspaper one day when she spotted an article "Riding Camp for young paralyzed children" She thought it would be great for Kristi. Kristi had other plans. She kept begging her mum not to go. She complained that she would never ride again. Kristi arrived at Sunny Acres Farm in a horrible mood. She wasn't happy about coming to the camp. A lady named Vera came out and welcomed her and her mother. She took them into the barn to show them the horses. "You will be riding HotShot, Kristi.", announced Vera. "Great." Kristi snapped back in a disgusted tone. "Kristi, you behave yourself, you understand, young lady?" Kristi's mother wasn't happy with her daughter. "I need to go and go to my work. Love you." Kristi's mother left for work and left Kristi and Vera alone. "So, we had better get you settled in?" Vera asked Kristi.	Sunn & Avalanche
2014-04-13 16:43:12
feather flies away by jadejewelsforever not a chapter story! i was walking to my room one morning i found out i missed breakfast so i got an apple and went to the stable nextdoor i went in to grab my saddle but i saw a note it was lying on the ground i picked it up and when i start reading it feather whinnies i drop the note and run to her stall and find out, SHES NOT HERE,' i worry i run to my house and ask if my mom brother or sister had seen her i ran to my room to look in her favorite spot out my window i ran back downstairs and rushed out the door, where had feather gone?. the next day mom and i went to see the police chief im sorry mam,"said chief but i need my horse back i miss her so much,"i cried im sorry mrs. gingerman i haven't seen your precious mare im sorry,"chief apologized ok,"i said with a tear on my cheek, a couple hours later me and my mom went to the police department and didn't find anything, we traveled and traveled police, chief, fire department, pastures, stables, apartments,ANYWHERE, i ran to my room up the stairs, i plopped on my bed and put my hands over my eyes i cried and cried i prayed and prayed all of a sudden MRRRRHRRRHRRRHRRR,"feather whinnied i stopped to listen MRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHRHRHRHRR, FEATHER!,"i ran downstairs i rushed out the door and into the back yard there she was feather my palomino mare standing in the hay eating and munching i ran over slowly and hugged her don't ever do that again,"i cried feather flies away,"said my mother coming up to me i love you feather," i always will	jadejewelsforever & Lady
2014-04-18 02:55:33
The Unicorn School: Part 3 (I think it's part 3) By Dragon Girl I soon learned that boarding school wasn't a walk in the park. Resa tried to show me the ropes, but there were so many rules and customs. The Rule Book was very precise: 1: No bullying or harassing (quite simple) 2: No food in class (What the hay?!) 3: No chewing syrup chews in class (What's...Syrup chews?) 4: No sweets in the dorms. Sweets must be kept in the kitchen. (You people are nuts!) 5: Lights out at 8:00 sharp. No Buts. (But I can't sleep till midnight!) 6: No questioning or harassing teachers. (But what if they make a giant mistake?!) 7: Keep you voice to an inside level at all times. (What?!) 8: No colts in the second level unless returning to dorm, no fillies in the third level. Ever. (Very simple. Colts are gross) 9: No horseplay. (But we're UNICORNS!!!) 10: Have fun! (How are we supposed to do that when you have all these rules?! 11: No writing on official school papers. (Whoops...) No one has found my papers yet, thankfully. I'll have to go tot he principal if I'm not careful. My class schedule was changed after the fifth day because I failed magic and physics. My new Schedule: Assembly Spells and Levitation: Beginner Novice Class History Beginning Science Lunch Free Hour (No free hour. I'm being tutored in science so I can get to the next level) Go to Ms. Changler to determine an extra curricular activity. I went to Ms. Changler on Saturday. She was a very, very muscular mare. I had a feeling that she worked out on week days (she only came to her office on weekends). Ms. Changler stared at me. "Come in, Sweetheart. Let's get this done." she called, pushing crumpled paperwork in all directions. Resa had warned me about Ms. Changler's organization problems. She plopped down behind her low desk, which still held her lunch: A strawberry and acorn butter sandwich with banana and molasses chips. The office smelled of spilt ink, burn paper, and a smelly waste basket full of three weeks worth of half eaten lunch. I thought about suggesting some herbal room scents, but I held my tongue. Ms. Changler went through an over flowing file folder until she found my name. "Ah, Katherine. A very pretty name." she said, placing the paper on top of her sandwich. I thanked all that is good in this world and I praised God that I wasn't going to have to keep that paper. "Yeah...I guess...would it be rude to request that I am called Kitty?" Ms. Changler didn't even blink. "'Course Hun. You can call me Betty. Now. What are your interests?" Betty started to munch on her sandwich, and I tried to look away from the grotesque sight. "Uh...well, I have an interest in gardening...is there a gardening club?" Betty raised her eyebrows. "No, I'm afraid not. But that's an excellent idea. I'll add that to next semester's ideas." she said, rummaging through her papers. After a few minutes of annoyed commenting and paper tossing, she produced a small notebook and levitated a pen over the paper. "Anything else?" I pawed the ground nervously. "Well, I do some clothing repair and I sometimes sing or act to my parents' farm animals." Betty laughed. It took me a moment to realize she wasn't laughing at my strange hobbies, but the shape of her D in Gardening. It looked a lot like a bunny. "Oh, I really need to go to handwriting class, don't I?! Well, I have good news for you, Hun! We have a Clothing Designing Group and a Theatre Club. Which one would you prefer?" That question was simple. I only repaired clothing because it was a chore. "Theatre Club please, Mam." Betty swished her tail and quickly jotted the name down on her notebook. Seconds later, she laughed, and wrote it down on the paper she was supposed to be writing on. "All right." she said. "I'll take this to the principal. Go ahead to your dorm." I nodded, bowed and left the office.	Dragon Girl & Frodo
2014-04-18 02:55:33
Ponies Are Friends by jeppocat There's no reason to dislike ponies, they truly make good friends the bond between horse and human should never meet their ends Ponies are like us in many kinds of ways. Treat them with love and kindness and you'll be happy all your days. Always remember to feed them apples & hay, brush their coat with lots of care. Pick out dirt you find in their hooves if you find them stuck in there. Give them a daily walk or ride them on days filled with sun, Before you know it you'll be true friends and friends are always fun!	jeppocat & Rinoa
2014-04-18 22:02:45
Tittle: A dangerous journey over the African Plains By: Varonnica Introduction- Meet the new born Zebra foal, Kiki, and her mother, Grace with their herd beside them as they travel over the dangerous plains of Africa. I picked zebra's cause the are horses too! As I stood up on my long half striped legs, my mother, Grace, started to lick me clean. The herd was a fine number of 500+ Zebras, as they graze the plains of the Savanna. Suddenly out of no where, one zebra spooked and so did the rest. Then I seen a lion, take down my aunt. It was fast. "Its ok Kiki, that's the life of a zebra". I looked around the place. Not a blade of grass tall enough to get a mouth full, anywhere. The lead zebra, King, was thinking about crossing the Mara River. My mom once told me that her Sister, Kembia, Died from a crocodile. The next day we were traveling with the Wilder Beasts. They are doing the same thing we we're. "Hi". A perky young voice said. I looked behind me and a Zebra my age was walking their. "I'm Kijona". "Hi I'm Kiki nice meeting you". "You too"! I was a little creped out by a zebra doing that but I went with it. Then soon enough, the zebras and Wilder Beast's were starting to pick up the pace. Then my nose caught the smell of another lion. I ran to my mom leaving Kijona behind. "Mom I smell lions". She smelt the air. Your right. She then seen the lion and spooked. Then the whole herd was being to seperate. I didn't see my mother or Kijona. I was standing there. All alone. At least for a minute. Then at the nick of time, I galloped as fast as I could. The lions were on my tail. Then I vanished into the herd that arrived for me. I was in the middle with mom and Kijona. She looked at me with a puzzled look. Then before you know it. The lions vanished into the brush. A few days of traveling and we arrived to our destination. But my mother refused to go into the water. Then I knew, she already smelt or seen a crocodile. Some of the herd went into the water and no crocodiles showed up. Then my mother crossed. And made it to the other side with no injuries. And I also seen Kijona on the other side as well. But I knew the crocodiles were saving the best for last. "Kiki come on its fine"! My mom said. "I'm to scared"! I replied. Then I smelt the most newest sent. A Leopard. I knew I had to cross. I jumped in and shot myself on the other side. The Leopard was standing right behind where I was. I looked at my mom. "Your vary brave". She said. Come on and enjoy the breeze of new territory for us Zebras. Kijona looked sad. What's wrong? "My mother, died from that crocodile over there". I'm to young to go off her milk. I will starve to death if I don't get milk". I told my mother the news. "Well Kiki I don't know. Its risky and theirs a 50 50 chance that I wont have enough milk to support two Zebras". But she will starve to death please mom she will die. "Well, okay fine". Yes thank you and god will bless your life. She looked surprised that I said that. But I think she was more surprised when she seen Kijona that skinny. She had her nurse first then me. Shorty after Kijona and me got off her milk. She died from old age. And when I just became 3 years old, I had a foal of my own named, Grace. And Kijona had a foal too, named Savanna. They became best friends. And stayed by each others side. Often playing with the other new sires too. It had been a blessing being with my mom those years. Then Kijona and I passed away at 17 years old. Of old age. But I had got to say to myself. God blessed me with a great life of cold and drought. But it was worth the risk and pleasure I got, being there for my 3 sires Bella, Kidogo, Shadow and most of all, my brave strong risky mother, Grace. A loving memory Of Grace THE END (BASED ON A TRUE STORY)	Varonnica & Vizeryn
2014-04-19 20:56:02
The White Mare by Pink Floyd I wait anxiously for the clock to read nine A.M. so I can finally phone the stable. I have been aching to get back there, to spend time with my beloved horse friends, and one horse in particular. I don’t even care that it’s freezing cold outside, with crunchy white snow on the ground and misty clouds of breath in the air. Eventually nine o’ clock comes, and I take my mother’s cellphone and remove myself from the small crowd of spectators. “Uh, hi. This is Emma. I was just wondering if I could come visit Windy today?” Excitement bubbles inside me as I imagine spending the day with my friend. I remember the first time I rode her, nearly a year ago. I had arrived at the barn a little early, so I sat down on the dusty plastic chairs behind the wooden barrier and watched as the lesson before mine drew to a close. Finally, the other riders dismounted and I stepped forward toward the instructor, who always assigned the horses for the day’s lessons. She looked at me for a moment, then smiled and asked if I wanted to ride the Arabian. Instantly I felt excited and a wide grin spread across my face; I had wanted to ride this horse since I first saw her, with her snowy white tail cascading to the ground for what seemed like forever. I was a bit scared too, knowing that I was not the most advanced rider, and knowing this horse’s reputation for being uncooperative and easily spooked. Because of this, I approached the mare cautiously. I stepped slowly onto the mounting block, not wanting to spook her. I was too short to mount even this small horse by myself; she was probably only around fifteen hands high (one “hand” is equal to four inches). Even with the mounting block I had a hard time slipping my left foot into the stirrup. Eventually, I gathered up the reins in my left hand and swung my right leg over the mare’s back. My legs were so short that my toes didn’t even reach past the saddle flap. I fumbled with putting my right foot into the stirrup and ended up leaning down and holding it still with my hand. This was another reason to be nervous; I was small. Often horses don’t respond as well to light riders because they can’t sense or feel their signals as well. I sat, almost shaking, in the saddle, reins clutched in both hands but unadjusted. Slowly I arranged them properly. Finally I was ready… or, as ready as I’d ever be. I had dreamed of this moment ever since I first saw the mare, but I had always imagined myself confident and in control. After all, I had read about horses, and had ridden plenty of them in the past. The feeling I experienced then is similar to one called stage-fright. In this instance, however, I was more afraid of being bucked off than missing a line or freezing on stage. The stable-hand released the mare’s bridle and I turned her head towards the well-worn path around the arena. Suddenly I thought of all the things I had read about horses being able to sense fear. They can use your emotions against you if they want. As the mare walked along the path, I repeated over and over in my head, “You can do this, you can do this. You are in control.” She seemed to respond well, and after a few circles around the arena, I began to relax and enjoy myself. There were other riders in the arena as well, since it was a group lesson. I made sure to pass them with a wide berth, knowing my mount’s reputation for disliking the other horses. Once the horses were warmed up, the instructor called out for us to primp, a gait in which the two hoof beats are much slower than a trot and instead of posting (rising and falling to their rhythm) you sit deep into the saddle. I had never really liked primps because they’re slow and bumpy. A slight nervousness gripped me for a moment as I asked the mare to primp, but almost instantly I told myself that I could do this, that I would not fail. The mare sped up slightly, her pace changing from four discernible beats to two as she primped slowly around the arena. I was accustomed to smoother trots and primps than hers and at first bounced all over the place. Then I began to match her rhythm. I tightened my stomach muscles and sat deeper in the saddle, and therefore sat the gait better. Once again the instructor called out, this time to quicken the pace to a trot. Feeling more and more confident as the minutes went by, I nudged the mare, asking her to speed up. Not used to this mare’s trot, I leaned over and watched her shoulder, first the one next to the wall, second the one on the outside. Finally I stood in the saddle to the rhythm of her trot, lifting as she lifted her inside shoulder. “This is great!” I thought as I guided the mare deep into corners and around other riders. She had such a fast trot, and though it was extremely bouncy and uneven, I loved it! I was so absorbed in the mare that I didn’t notice the line of horses until I was coming up to them along the wall. I slowed the mare down and halted a safe distance from the other horses. I had a huge grin on my face, and I patted the mare’s neck cheerfully, thanking her for working so wonderfully. Often my instructor had said, “It’s the rider doing the work. Don’t tell me it was the horse.” I had never believed this. The horse can choose whether it is going to be cooperative and perform effectively, or be uncooperative and perform with less enthusiasm and less quality of movement. That is why I always rewarded my mounts when they did well, to show them that I appreciated their hard work. I watched as, one by one, the other riders urged their mounts forward and along the wall where they halted, turned each horse’s head to the wall, and kicked with their outside leg. The horses all took off at a canter, continuing all the way along the walls to end up right back in the line. My excitement grew every time I moved forward in the line. Cantering was my favorite, and I had often wished that I could just canter on and on forever without having to stop. Finally it was my turn. I took a deep breath and urged my mare forward along the wall. I turned her head to the wall and kicked with my outside leg. She took off like a rocket, her canter rocking up and down, sending me bouncing hopelessly in the saddle. I felt my ponytail whip behind me. I felt free! I wanted to canter forever on that beautiful mare. I could feel her body beneath me. I could hear all three beats of the canter. I could feel that she loved that as much as I. I was exhilarated! I was born to be with this horse, born to run with her beneath me. We were not just rider and mount. We were partners, equals. Sometimes you read stories about people who have had special bonds with their horses. It’s often described as the once-in-a-life-time bond. In that moment, during that ride, I formed that bond with the white mare. The rest of the hour flew by. I enjoyed myself completely, feeling connected to the mare and confident that I could handle anything. I was disappointed when we had to dismount, but I knew that I would be back next week, so I said goodbye to the mare and left, heart racing and mind whirring with the experience. I had done it! I had finally ridden the white mare and had not fallen off. I knew that this experience and this horse, the white mare I was so nervous about riding, would be unforgettable. The voice coming from the phone brings me back to reality. “Oh, Emma, I’m so sorry. I meant to call you. Windy died a few days ago.” The words are ice to my body. I am paralyzed while at the same time sinking into a deep, dark pit. I can’t speak. I can’t do anything. My beautiful Windancer is dead. I am shattered. That is the only way to describe this feeling. Shattered, because I know that without that mare and without those experiences we shared, I would be a different person. And now everything is gone. The white mare, my best friend in the entire world, is gone.	Pink Floyd & Party Crasher
2014-04-20 22:30:16
Title: The jumping course with Champ By: Veronica There was a small jumping course on the street Something that I wasn't sure if I would beat The jumping course was really long I knew I would get it wrong My horse Champ, didn't agree I had to know the key My horse Champ, Thought he was right But from be, The right was a fight We took off with his mane trembling with delight With his hooves I thought we started our flight When we looked back, not a hurdle down in sight I Guess really, My horse Champ, was right. I told everyone at school the news In their mind, was a whole bunch of BOOS! Some day, They will learn about horses In the mean time, I have My own Courses. A loving memory Of champ. <3 You! Please vote	Varonnica & Vizeryn
2014-04-23 01:41:03