Rufus you may recall
Is a special kind of animal
Who learned to read and write and such
But Rufus was left handed you see
So his writing appeared upside down
To you and me.
As Rufus wrote his hand was always in the way
So he really couldn't see what he had to say,
Some said Rufus just scribbled here and there
As if he really had no care.
Not true! Rufus was a special one
Who wrote and wrote till the light of day was gone
Not only did Rufus write but he
Drew pictures of things that only he could see.
His pictures sometimes were a bit weird as,
The ideas popped right out of his head.
A cockroach that had eyes so big
And then a skinny kind of purple pig.
But this tale we are concerned with here
Is one which to Rufus was most dear.
You see Rufus often thought why is it that
A rabbit hasn't a long tail like a rat,
Or perhaps a nice furry one like a fox
Or maybe one with feathers like a cock.
No, just like he had to write with his left hand,
It seems that he must take what one can.
A powder puff didn't seem proper
So, Rufus thought how about a real show stopper.
With a bit of glue, and my imagination,
I can help with this abomination.
Taking some feathers from the duster,
He thought that's just right to make muster.
Done with the slightest effort
Rufus had a tail that would make a peacock start.
Standing in front of the mirror on the wall,
Rufus, on hind legs, stood so tall.
What a surprise it will be
When my friends take a look at me.
A bunny rabbit, I am no more,
No I'm an avian quadruped for sure.
Alas, Alack, Oh Woe is me.
When they saw him they began to flee.
Afraid of what he had become
A fearsome sight and then some.
Of course when he tried to explain
That he was Rufus, just the same.
They asked, 'Why is it that you should be,
Something that you aren't clearly.'
So Rufus thought perhaps having a powder puff
Wasn't all that bad, and the feathers sure were rough.
Got to get rid of them I must
So that my friends will again me, trust.
Easier said than done
As feather removal was no fun,
A bit of hair and hide came off
As he tried the feathers to doff.
But finally Rufus the Scribbler
Was free of the feathers and a bit of fur.
This is the tale that Rufus told
About the tail that was so bold.
Stay as you are, don't try to be
Something that you aren't destined to be.
Your friends will see you as you are
One who really does care,
One that although you may write with your left hand
Doesn't mean that you can't write. Yes you can.
And draw those pictures that pop into your head
They represent – imagination not rote drawing instead.
How much better it is to scribble day and night
Than do nothing wrong or right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem