Dear Smith,
My stallion is ready for the grand race and I promised him to buy new shoes.
That should be durable and not fashionable.
I want you to explain my situation dear,
I have a holey wallet in that never remains the colored notes.
My Windmill is very familiar with the racecourse and I am sure he would bring the prize home, this is a humble requirement and invitation from a forgotten old friend.
sincerely,
The lame jockey Surmise.

*Postscript
I hope you still collect the old coins and I have few silver that I can polish for you.My broken door is open at all for my drunkard old friends.

nimal dunuhinga

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-undeniable-letter-to-a-farrier-who-lives-in-a-remote-village/