Erudite at night verbose by day,
altho', I can't speak for others when I say,
"Shooting fish in a barrel of monkeys
(such primates rate a damn good spanking),
it seems to me, would not be fun at all,
there's no challenge, where's the reward?
It's enough to make an Australian crawl.
And, if Aussies ate nothing but eucalyptus,
as somnolent, lethargic koalas do,
would their breath also smell
as tho' they've been chewing cough drops too?
Do emu wonder why they have wings,
well, can they really have barrels of oil?
As, if it's to be sold or bought, how's it plumbed,
scooped off the top when they're brought to the boil?
And not to knock the fearless quokka,
cute tho' they may be,
the world's happiest animal
is not really smiling at you or even me.
What does the kookaburra have to laugh about
when they're feeling crook,
that Australia's wider than the moon?
Akubra hat's off, that's a fun one for the books.
Boo... meringues are fun, as is surfing thru' tubes,
but, me, I'd be a wombat, who actually do poo cubes!
My dear old wombat friend is near.
He says to me, don’t worry.
You’ll look back another time
when you can find it funny.
Go to extremes? It’s not for us.
We like our days quite peaceful.
‘Most every day, do it this way
and we will have a life full -
of Proper Days, done in our way -
ones that we can cherish.
And when we want, can also add
a little bit of relish.
Charging around? Race here and there?
That is not our style.
Did the race feel right to you?
Sit here for a while.
My guess is that, what we both need,
has been here all along.
WE know deep down in our hearts
what it is makes us strong.
Dramatic changes aren’t for us.
We’d rather ponder time.
Then you’ll get it in your soul
that we are going fine.
I know you are aware of us,
Me and my little dog.
She sits with me, she does not chase
‘cause I have asked her not.
Me as your friend, please do not sack.
Tomorrow have another chat?
Or the next day, that is fine,
Because we like to take our time.
We know you’re not really a bear!
You are a wombat, clearly.
But brown and furry, strong and round,
You’re Little Bear to me.
Little bear, how are you here?
Come to see me now?
We spend this time together.
It is meant somehow.
Warm drink in hand, I slowly sip
as you munch grass nearby.
Never knew a wombat friend
would come give me a try.
Thanks so much for hanging out.
Do you enjoy your time?
On these peaceful afternoons
as much as I do mine?
Wilfred the wombat
Was really quite fat
Instead of digging holes
He just stared and sat.
He sat in the country
He sat in the town
He sat quite high up
He sat quite low down.
He sat at the beach
While others would surf
He did wombat yoga
While the others dug turf.
He sat in the west
He sat in the east
But no one realised
He was deceased.
Pat, pat, pat,
He's my wombat,
Wee Winky is his name,
Pat, pat, pat,
Wee Winky sat,
He really is quite tame.
Stroke, stroke, stroke,
He's just awoke,
Winky's such a sleepy head,
Stroke, stroke, stroke,
He's a hairy bloke,
A burrow is his bed.
Where mountains rise and forests grow
the slow wombat digs his home.
It lives in fear of foes and those
who deride its shape and gait.
It roams the land, where green abounds,
when full darkness falls around.
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No.1 ~ Wombat
Author: Paul Callus ~ 18 th Jan 2015
Contest: Night Creatures
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placed: 5th
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