Duncan Livingstone

Whipping Whip's Owner - Poem by Duncan Livingstone

The sun was still young
Like a new bouncing baby
My friend was such a mosquito
Who never wanted blood maybe
He made for the foe's sugar-cane

One minute drove its wagon past
With a loud thunder that amazed ogres
My friend was such a calf
That followed the wildebeest blindly
He was whipped by the cane owner

River Mara kept on calling
All the departed ancestors
To come and enjoy some maize cobs
That were ready for any thief nearby
The cane owner planned to steal once

The sun had grown old
Like any useless gold
The cane owner was such a giant
That was whipped by the cob owner
So the owner of a whip was whipped

The story was then retold
Of how my friend was caught
Snakes hissed that the cane owner
Was truly and seriously taught
And the owner of whip was whipped

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Poem Submitted: Friday, May 3, 2013

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 4, 2013

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