Mule Poem

 

Poem

Mule
© 2008 Melanie D. Calvert-Benton, all rights reserved

 

Once was a women married to a fool,
He had long ears and was called "Mule."
Mule was stubborn and ornery, he wouldn't Even plow.
His wife would cry, her head would bow.
Wife toiled in the garden and work she did do,
Mule would just fish, she thought it weren't cool.

When supper was ready and it was time for bed, Mule
Snorted and brayed, he thought he'd been had.
For wife with her learning, she gave Mule his bag.
He looked startled, amazed and thought it was a drag.
Stuffed with the favorites he did like, she told him to
Get out and take a long, long hike.

So Mule with his bag, away he did go
To his buddy's house Bubba, who was dumb and slow.
Mule cried to Bubba his barnyard friend, "She cain't
Turn me out, it cain't be tha' end."
Bubba rubbed his jaw and thought a small bit, he told
Mule his situation was not quite hip.

So Mule hung out with Bubba for two long days, they
Went fishing and hunting and sang each others praise.
He missed his wife and thought of all she did do,
Maybe he did act crazy and why some called him a "Mule."
So Mule with his straw hat sitting between his long ears,
He trotted home to wife to settle his arrears.

Wife kissed him while he slobbered all over her face, she
Put her foot down and told him he needed to his place.
So Mule with his traces all anchored with chains,
He began to plow garden, for once he weren't ashamed.
Months past and the garden did grow, with flowers and
Crops and even a black crow.

Wife was proud of Mule, she reminded him each day
It was better for them and the family they'd made.
For Mule and his wife had produced a young mule
Born of their devotion and each had found it true.
Tis' easier to pull a plow when both partners are a pulling,
A garden of love and they call it, I'm not bulling.