As night encroached upon his soul
the cowboy sipped from trembling bowl
His supper, chilled, his heart like coal,
A cloak to hide from wandering trolls.
He added wood to stoke the fire,
and laid out traps of springs and wire.
His head did nod, his eyes did tire,
but fear of trolls did not conspire
to keep him up, or cause no sleep
'though noises come as creatures creep
in dark recesses, cold and deep...
the kiss of death for half his sheep.
Far off in the earie night
the wailing of a wolf gave fright.
His flock of sheep were huddled tight
to save themselves from horrid bite.
The llama then arose, took charge.
Though average height, he was quite large.
More fierce than guns held by a Sarge,
his spit would sink an ocean barge.
The wolves retreated, scratched and damp
that llama's style they would not cramp,
on paws she stomped, on heads did tramp
'till peace returned to cowboy's camp.
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kitd
bobbot
Scylla the Rock
1_Irritated_Mother
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Foolish Monkey
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Comments
bravo!
foolish monkey... Gee thanks. Coming from the princess of poetry that means a lot. I just realized that the llama is both a he and a she. Guess I'd better fix that.
Patty Jane Maher... I almost always find myself on a solitary island. "Different" was what my relatives all used to say when I showed up. Thanks for making me feel at home.
Rated for LLama spit.
HenryR... Thanks. I'm not one to write poetry but when someone throws down the gauntlet it's really, really hard to leave it down there on the ground.
I just can't do it.
This was great!
xoxoxo,