Donkeys, Camels And Horses Poem by David Taylor

Confusion reigns
with frequent changes of mind,
'let's go there' grandmother says
'to the end of the pier',
and what is there?
We arrive to find crusted sandwiches
and wet limp rolls of ham,
whilst looking down on the sand
donkeys carry enthralled children
nowhere and back again.
The wife complains at carrying
the usual array of drinks and snacks
to nowhere;
and consumed we carry back.
Just a bloody camel she says
with more than two humps.
Daniels face beams on the carousel
as the horse rises and falls
and says Murphy, the donkey
was best of all.
Grandma is still eating
the wet limp ham roll
and seems annoyed
Grandpa doesn't want any of it.
I just eat my words.....