Poetry

The Donkey

The Poor Mans friend, nicknamed Old Velvet Ears,

Stubborn will, qualified loyalty, Faithful servant,

transported various burdens, turf, foodstuff,

manure, timber. Survived on leftovers, grateful for

small kindnesses, sheaf of oats, slice of bread.

Children's friend at fairgrounds, roadshows,

seaside, homestead.

 

Spancelled at fairs and markets, yet on

hand to take his semi-moribund master

safely home.

A stoic witness to faction fights and fracas.

Might well have pondered, Whats it all

about?, then he didn't have access to the

Devil's Buttermilk.

 

Saw Ireland on foot courtesy of travellers

encampments, was encouraged to seek food

in adjoining fields under cover of darkness.

Dumb maybe? But always able to easily find

the favourite field after lengthy absence.

 

Of placid nature, yet saw service on many fields

With legendary El Cid in Spain,

Napoleon in Europe, on hand at O'Connell's

monster meetings at Tara.

 

A reliable barometer of weather patterns.

On high open ground when weather was kind.

Otherwise found in most sheltered

corner with its tail to the wind.

 

At Dawn of Christianity he was the conduit

of the most important mission since Noah

boarded the Ark.

Legend says; Our Saviour's Cross was

imprinted on its back.

After many centuries of unremitting toil and

hardships, has finally found recognition

as a friend to all humanity.