THE STORY OF BABY ELLIE

Ellie was just three months old, When she was brought to our sanctuary, A safe haven was our fold. She was an orphan, her mother, Her sister, her aunt, her brother, All chased and shot, and left to die, From our sad experience we knew, That probably a foul mouthed, Red faced, sun frazzled man Whose muscled legs would look Disgusting, And who with red eyes bulging Would say, What a booty, We have in the truck today. He would generate an excitement, Of the atrocity they had Committed, saying they would Receive a bonus this month Added to their pay. And what was their booty, A truck full of tusks Elephants killed when it Was still light, Until dusk Too dangerous at night. A war between poachers And rangers How could rangers, Gentle souls, who loved animals, Equal the poachers trained brutality, Who had not a trace Of humanity. Baby Ellie Was found, Starving, scared and cold, Somewhere in the African bush Almost dead, But she survived a shot to the head. We had other young orphans, They all would play As baby elephants do, And slowly Ellie became stronger. Her mummy who faced Horrific slaughter, Would have been so proud of Her daughter. Rehabilitation was done, It was both work and fun. Eight months later we all Thought that it was time, For Ellie to be with her own kind, And knew she would find In the African bush, a new Family who would care And love her. Clumsily she got into the truck, Perhaps it was fear that Brought the smell of death near, Awkwardly. And hesitantly she walked Down the ramp, A mama elephant spied her first, And with their recognizable gait, And heavy weight, Walked to one another, Swinging their trunks, And so, they met, And side by side they walked To the nearby water pan, Our hearts sang, As Ellie turned and let out A loud, But proud, Thunderous trumpet, Thank you she meant, I love you too. Ellie had finally Come home, To her own.