Animal Power - a poem to cheer in times of Covid

By Imelda Hughes, April 2020

Wow, I can’t believe that we’re in Paris,

quacked baby duck to mother in boulevard St Germaine,

delightful to be able to browse in peace, said mother,

peering in windows at Versace and Balmain.

Down from the Great Orme Rock

trooped a herd of wild goats in a line,

to sample Llandudno’s shrubs and hedges,

Yum, yum, chuckled King Puck, these camellias taste sublime.

In Lopbari, Thailand, in the main square,

gangs of macaques scavenged, began to fight,

West-Side-Story-style, quite vicious,

sending joggers fleeing for their lives.

A puma sniffed the air in Buenos Aires,

it’s very quiet, he mused, I’ll ramble into town,

causing a cocooner to exclaim to her companion,

great God, Belinda, look how big our cats have grown.

In Ronda, the bulls have been given a reprieve,

in their stalls they munch on new-mown hay,

while round the bullring strut peacocks, fanning tails,

but there’s no cheering, no shouts of olé, olé.

Said a daddy coyote to his little son last week,

time to explore, leave this lonely ridge,

and into San Francisco the pair sauntered,

they were spotted crossing the Golden Gate Bridge.

In the town of Ballinrobe in the west of Ireland,

ravens, starlings and pigeons are making quite a din,

as are the demented fishermen, who cast lines in front lawns

and wonder if they’ll ever fish again?

While most animals are happy with their new-found freedom,

one creature sobbed, its little head held low,

humans are blaming me, whispered the pangolin,

for spreading Covid 19, but that is just not so.

Not so indeed, shouted the rhino,

you are innocent, humans have themselves to blame

for encroaching on our habitats and killing us,

they are paying a heavy price, what a pity, what a shame.