THE TOY HORSE Somebody, when I was young, stole my toy horse, The charm of my morning romps, my man's delight. For two days I grieved, holding my sorrow like flowers Between the bars of my sullen angry mind. Next day I went out with evil in my heart, Evil between my eyes and at the tips of my hands, Looking for my enemy at the armed stations, Until I found him, playing in his garden With my toy horse, urgent in the battle Against the enemies of his Unreason's land: He was so happy, I gave him also My vivid coloured crayons and my big glass marble. -- Valentin IREMONGER