Image copyright to Mirko Frank www.kunstnet.de
Tiny the Cow – Poem
We had just moved in from a rural farm to a place on the edge of town
With our trucks and tractor, farmland stuff, and a cow of some renown
Our spacious yard was the take off point, for my Father’s latest fad,
For timber hauled from government stands gave cash that made him glad.
Our corner home was a busy place and the highway ran nearby
On a crescent road of the self same name where the traffic seemed to fly,
On the other side of the wide highway was a grass land damp and green,
And that’s the place we’d graze our cow where Tiny could be seen
Now Tiny’s girth, an impressive size, had been fed from the lush green stuff,
‘Twas our daily job to escort that cow and report that she’d had enough,
And to do that job with a long stout rope I’d tug ‘cross the highway near
While Tiny tugged the other way and I glanced down the road in fear.
There was many a time when a speeding car would require the rope be dropped
And the cow take off at a furious clip on a lengthy jaunt ‘till stopped,
Then an evil thought entered into me, and I’m too ashamed to boast
For the next time round when the cow took off wound rope round the nearest post.
And the speeding cow did a somersault that would give Olympics pride
When the rope reached end and my feet caught up to that prostrate cow beside,
Tiny slowly rose, and she shook off dust, and she glanced in shocked dismay
When I took the rope and I led her back there was nothing more to say.
Then from that time on she would trot behind in a manner lady like
And she’d stand demure on the grassy field while I drove the tether spike,
There was no contest on the dangerous road for she’d learned her lesson well,
And she marked the spot where the contest was and her naughty body fell.
“© Ian Grice Copyright 2011 All rights reserved”