To Mom March 11 1979

To MOM; March 11,1979 This is the story of an animal trainer, Whose mettle and courage, couldn't be plainer. A search'd reveal if you'd care to explore, None greater exists than El Eleanor. She's faced the very meanest big game And transformed them all , smiling and tame. There's Big Daddy Harry, King of the Brood, He fights in the jungle and brings home the food. When the hunting is hard, his scorn can be raw. El soothes the pain, takes a thorn from the Pa. The next animal is Rusty the Red. The patron saint of unmade beds. A beast of habits, bad ones galore, His head s in the clouds, his, clothes on the floor. El's plans are to put an end to his bad mannered life, By chasing him within,an inch, of. his wife. Lindsey's the next, she's no longer wild. El taught her well when she was. a child, Out of the home and into the night, She's now a trainer in her own right., By way of taming by putting a smile on, She's done a dog, a .cat, and one big Italian. The animal Robert likes his milk whole, Drinks only unmixed, unopened and cold. Devour, he can, a whole pound of meat, Sharing with him sure ain't a treat. El''s main defense against his devour'n, Is a refrigerator as big as a cavern. Next on the tour tour is Kristin Clothes-Horse. Her closet is full, but never her purse. El hopes to prevent a new"confederacy" One which would a poor man, namely, "Poverty Lee". Now we find Jenny the Baker. With time, she's become quite the good pastry maker. Jenny however''s a wrestling cook, An odd combination that's not in the book, She has her own reasons, for truth to tell, son, The cooking is a wrestling move called a"full Nelson". Hilary's a creature who likes to get around In automobiles at the speed of sound. She doesn't always though, 'specially not at night, Then she likes to travel at the speed of light. It's hard to see now but she's on the track,you see, Of her own future business - called Hilary's Taxis. Nori's the last, but not the least, A full member of this zoo, and like the rest a beast. A paradox of sorts, this Blue Prize winner, Is proof that church schools are chock full of sinners, Thus we are the animal house, And though we may complain and grouse, Everyone, no matter his status, Thinks El Eleanor's got to be, the World's Greatest! Happy Fifty-fifth Birthday, From son Rusty,