The Mule Laden with Gold
Prepared by: Reo Paolo M. Uri
Two mules met on lovely wad
Beside a darkening
wood
That many a robber had tiptoed through
In search of mulish blood
One carried gold
One carried corn
One was proud of its
buden,
The other followed
At they traveled on down a single path
“we carry in weight the same heavy load,
But mine is superior.”
Long after midnight two robbers came.
They ignored the mule
that carried the grain
They fought its
companion but fear made it bold
And it kicked, and refused to give up the gold.
The robbers attacked the mule
And thereby cut its struggle short
They tiptoed off through the dreadful wood
Loaded with gold and covered in blood
With its weakening breath the mule exclaimed,
“ those who carry their master’s gold are fool!
Pray , and tell this to all other mules.
The value of corn is
easy to use,
And a world full of
gold is useless to me!”
Source: Aesop’s fable, Courier Dover Publications, New York,
1994.
Kitchen Scandal
Prepared by: Reo Paolo M. Uri
The pineapple blushed a shocking pink
And her multiple eyes turned brown
The potato pursed a disapproving lip
Her eyes drawn tight in a frown.
The clock held up her long thin hands
And tick-tocked in dismay
The corn tocked her hair behind an ear
And didn’t know what to say.
The running water gurged and shoked
The onion dropped a ring
The cabbage scracted a bewildered head
The bean grew limp as a string.
For oh, the shame
The scandalous shame
To say the chicken was dressed
They’d stripped off
her feathers
And served her quite
bare
And everyone poked at her breast!
-Author Unknown
Silver ships
There are trails that a lad may follow
when the years of his boyhood slip,
but I shall soar like a swallow
on the wings of a silver ship.
Guiding my bird of metal,
One with her throbbing frame,
Floating down like a petal,
Roaring up like a flame.
Winding the wind that scatters
Smoke from the chimmey’s lip,
Tearing the clouds to tatters
With the wings of a silver ship.
Grazing the broad blue skylight
Up where the falcons fare
Riding the realms of twilight,
Brushed by a comet’s hair.
Snug in my coat of leather,
Weather the skyline swing,
Shredding the world like a fearing
From the tip of a tilted wing.
There are trails that a lad may travel
When the years of his
boyhood wane,
But I’ll let a rainbow ravel
Through the wings of my silver plane.
-Mildred PlewMeigs.
