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// 32 Appaloosa Music Circle By Cheese Sandwich 
// Story: Poetry From Equestria And Beyond 
// by LyraAlluse 
//------------------------------//

Appaloosa Music Circle

By Cheese Sandwich

A circle of musicians gather,
Play their fading tunes,
Things that won’t be remembered,
Except by those who play the blues,

And the ponies in the circle,
Will carry on the songs,
Every Monday in the town square,
Of Appaloosa’s downtown scene,

Played out to the throngs,
Of tourists who wander by,
Wondering why these ponies are here,
Playing like they’re preserving time,

Signatures in every lyric written,
A passing soliloquy,
Then the ponies in the circle, 
Start to sing,

In unison and their music fills the air,
And their guitar strings echo off the stairways,
Encircling the Town Square,

And I sit there and I listen,
In wonder and in awe,
And at that moment I realize,
I need to be a part,

Of this circle of musicians,
So I come and sit a spell,
And listen to the works in progress,
That the ponies are willing to tell,

Through whistles and through stomps,
And through guitar harmonies,
And each song that plays,
I get swept up in the melody,

I put my rubber chickens on the ground,
And ask each stallion and mare to charge them,
And the ponies gladly oblige,
And pass their chords right through them,

And the music fills my rubber chickens,
Just like a sea pony sings,
And when the circle stops its round,
I’m bursting at the seams,

With new ambition to take these fake chickens,
Charged by this meeting of fate,
With me on my journey to spread laughter,
With each new event I make.

It is true that these musicians,
Have truly made my day,
And I thank each pony for their contribution,
Before I go on my way,

And the circle breaks up into a crystal,
Of many shattered lines,
As I gather all of my belongings,
And leave the ponies behind,

You can never relive, 
A moment like this,
So I sit down at the saloon,
And reminisce.

I write, have a drink of apple cider,
And dance into the night,
That circle of musicians,
Fresh in my mind,

Fresh in that moment of time,
That place when I met those faces,
Singing rounds in a circle, 
Lyrics in a round of a Square of Town,

In downtown, Appaloosa, Monday night,
A jazz bands plays in dimming light,

But my adventure’s,
Barely starting,
So I leave the saloon,
And go a walking,

To the corner where I meet,
A witch doctor and his apprentice,
And he shows me all of his art,
Gives me a flute to play a part,
In my next adventure,

We walk together,
Us artists of a different feather.

We find a punkish band,
With three stallions playing on the street side,
And my new group joins in,

Banging on anything that we can find,
At the time like a trashcan lid,
Or a guitar case, or the sides of our face, 
Or the sides of our thighs, 

And we create a new circle, 
That lights up the town, 
And we dance and get groupies,
And get the tourists to join in and sing, 

In this circle, new circle, square of a,
Circle near the center of town,
We are all getting down,
To the groove,

And then mid-move,
I take out one of the rubber chickens I charged,
In my first circle of art,

And I give it to the witch doctor,
Who has a heart for this fake chicken, knew right away,
That his destiny was to receive it that day,
On his way to Dodge Junction, to learn more, 

As he skateboards away,
I am captivated by the lore,
I’m creating with this circle of friends,
I’ll probably never meet again,

And after a while of jamming downtown,
I decide I've had enough and I leave the circle,
Of a circle, growing with more circles of,
Groupies and bar hoppers as the evening gets darker,

And I go on my way, a lone wanderer,
Away from that circle of music made friends,
Who I will probably never see again.

But a circle is endless, 
You can’t break the song, 
So my journey will meet,
With more of them before long, 

A circle within a circle of musicians,
Playing here and there, 
Songs that probably will never air, 

On the radio or TV, 
But only in the circles,
Of ponies they meet, 

And these circles within circles overlap, 
Change the world with,
Every stray lyric that might escape, 
And touch the souls of those who stay, 

And listen for a spell to the circle within a circle,
Changing, rearranging, transforming, reforming,
Building, molding, holding a place in the,
Circle of song, dance, and art, 
As well as in the hearts of those,
Who are willing to be part of the circle, 
Of song.