Thursday, February 26, 2009

General Bullregard -- A North South Tale

I'm excited to host Patty Wysong's Friday Fiction this week.
At the bottom of this post is Mr. Linky. Add your name
and a link to your fiction, then click on other links
to read fiction by some excellent writers.

Thanks for laughing at the days with me.




General Bullregard -- A North South Tale
by Beth LaBuff
Topic: Don't cut off your nose to spite your face.

Back in the fall of sixty-three
Or was it sixty-four?
There was a minor skirmish that
‘Bout caused a barnyard war.

South feedlot yard on Shiloh Farm
Was where they kept the bull.
His name was Pierre Bullregard --
For short -- The General.

Fenced inside north pasture hills,
The sheep would safely lay
Beside the still creek waters,
With no worries that they’d stray.

North pasture hills and south feedlot
Were separated by
A current wielding ‘lectric fence
That stood ‘bout three feet high.

The General would often graze
Next to the ‘lectric fence.
His tough old hide got many zaps
Before he gained some sense.

Some days he’d walk the fence line
And some days trot -- for fun.
He carved a furrow in the ground --
A trail we called Bull Run.

That day of infamy that left
The General so distraught --
A sheep was grazing near the fence
Next to the south feedlot.

The General from across the fence
Was thinking, Muttonhead.
Then sheep’s eye locked with bull’s eye,
And “Baaaaaaaad,” the sheep’s mouth said.

“How dare that sheep from ‘cross the fence
Accuse me with that word!”
Sheep bleated out that “Baaaaaad” again
And “Baaaaaaad” The General heard.

Instead of letting bygones be
At night he counted sheep.
Then “Baa-Baaaaaad” echoed through his mind
And drove away his sleep.

Like chewing cud, his anger was
Regurgitated bile.
His all-consuming thoughts ’bout sheep
Envisioned things hostile.

The bull was livid and revenge
Became his sole obsession,
Payback for a misconceived
North pasture sheep aggression.

He pawed the ground then charged the fence
His eyes were seeing red.
And steam expelled from out his nose
And dust shook from his head.

He shorted out the ‘lectric fence.
Sparks crackled in the air.
His hair was singed, but in he slipped
Though none the worse for wear.

So blinded by his anger
He chased the sheep that day,
Till men in white coats were called in
And carted him away.

Folks said he went to market.
Some said he bought the farm.
Perhaps he cashed his cow chips in --
He ain’t been ’round this barn.

inspiration from: Psalm 23:1-2 NIV
The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters.

© Beth LaBuff -- February 2008
written for a FaithWriters.com writing challenge


13 comments:

Yvonne said...

giggle, giggle! thanks for the wonderful animals antics again!

Patty Wysong said...

Oh, I loooooove this one!
It's my favoritEST of your poems! And my parents roared when I read it to them! I'll send them the link. *wink*

Thanks for hosting for us, Beffers!
Huggles!

Catrina Bradley said...

Oh, what a hoot! Love it, Beff. :)

Hoomi said...

Another delight, Beth!

Dee Yoder said...

What an unforgettable character this guy is--er--WAS. Very funny, Beth! You must have a ball writing this. (:

Joanne Sher said...

Oh, honey - I LOVE this one! Sooooooo fun! Masterful as usual!

Carly said...

marvelous, as always :)

Teresa Lee Rainey . . . said...

Oh how funny! Love, love, love this poem! Poor Old General!

S.C.(S.Harricharan) said...

Heehee! This is hilarious! I loved it! LOL!

Lynn Squire said...

Ha! Ha! Hee,hee, hee. I love it! I can just see it happening too.

The Surrendered Scribe said...

Big grin, this was a spirited poem! Loved it!

Sherri Ward said...

This is really, really cute! You have a magical way of "wending words to paper!" Much better to rest in peaceful pastures, I'm thinking, than let yourself get in such a stew!

rcwriter said...

Very cute. I like the parody.