Back To the Barnyard
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My owners call me horse
You'd think I was barnyard watch dog
Fancy that. My spot beneath a shaded guava tree
Face rustic oversize shack with wide veranda
Where they rock. They watch me feed
Where green grass grow, where fowls and pigs stray
Feasting on ripe guavas, some bounce off my back
I don't mind that; not even the weight of my owner
Or his wife, riding me on certain days -
Wild smell of their plantation cling to me
They'd groom me from ticks, and feed me well
But their adopted son knew unsavory tricks
He'd grin, tickling parts of me with a bamboo stick.
One morn my owners stayed so long
I felt out of place, tormented by and by
That mischievous boy reached and pulled my tail
A horse knows only one way to kick
So an awful lick made him shout. He was out
From across the road, one hurried half stunned.
Sun at its zenith sat and watched
It was I, carrying my tormentor on my back
Seemed I walked a million miles
So he could be seen by a Doc
We walked and walked, until
Rain clouds cautioned us to turn back.
Day after day, I would watch Reggie at a distance
Sitting, staring, staying his hands straight.
...
Sponsor... Matt Caliri
Contest Name...'Back To The Barnyard'
Date...3-14-16
Copyright © Iris E. Sankey- Lewis | Year Posted 2016
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