Part 5: Mole Rival

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic


This is part 5 of a 9 part series of poems about a fantasy world in which I get stuck. The animals speak, and are generally unhelpful while I try to find a way to get home.



They were all written when I was in my mid to late teens and were received well by my friends at the time. I just thought it would be nice to get them out to a wider audience.

Submitted: September 08, 2017

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Submitted: September 08, 2017

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Part 5

Mole Rival

 

I had a flamingo once

It wasn’t pink though

It was green

 

It had three wings

And beady eyes

It liked to sing

And fly the skies

 

Its name was Thomas

He had a limp

He was friends with Tony

He was a chimp

 

They liked to play

And dance around

They knew a mole

Who lived underground

 

They fought this mole

But rarely won

They came home battered

With wounds that stung

 

One day out walking

They set a trap

Then lay in wait

Then had a nap

 

When they woke

They saw a hole

The trap was sprung

But it was not mole

 

As they peered

Across the ground

They saw a creature

And heard a sound

 

It was screeching

And making a din

It sounded like rubber

And drumsticks on tin

 

 

 

 

They had caught a warthog

And it couldn’t get out

It had tusks like icicles

And a face in a pout

 

It shouted out loud

‘Just set me free

You wouldn’t like it

If you were me’

 

Thomas and Tony

Glanced all about

They had not caught mole

It was like fishing for trout

 

One day they’re all there

The next they are gone

Swimming in deep pools

Down rivers so long

 

Enough about fish

That wasn’t the issue

Thomas was snivelling

Tony gave him a tissue

 

He asked ‘What’s wrong’

Thomas replied with a wail

‘We haven’t caught mole

And he’s stealing our mail’

 

‘How do you know?’

Tony said quite abruptly

‘There was a package sent to me

It was a jar full of chutney

 

It was quite nice too

Full of apply chunks

And to actually finish it

Took me two months

 

At the bottom of the jar

Was a note saying thus

I have stolen your mail

You beady eyed wuss’

 

Tom’s long repertoire

Was followed by a shout

The mole had emerged

And given Tony a clout

 

And with the large bruise

The chimp had obtained

Getting larger and larger

Their enemy exclaimed

 

‘You’re not going to die now?’

He asked with a smile

‘Because that looks quite nasty

And gangrenously vile’

 

Tony replied with a whine

‘Well I am in great pain

And my trousers are ruined

Just look at this stain

 

Blood never comes out

You know what I’ll do?

I’ll bill you for cleaning

And get a lawyer to sue’

 

Days and days past

And a letter was sent

Mole changed the address

To be redirected to Kent

 

Tony was phoned

By a loud angry squirrel

Who said that the letter

Was addressed to a Cyril

 

‘That was Moles name’

Tony thought with a scowl

Thomas was gardening

Digging up bulbs with a trowel

 

When all of a sudden

He unearthed a small box

It was covered in dirt

And had twenty four locks

 

Luckily for Thomas

The hinges were rusted

It would break open easy

Like a knife through some custard

 

It creaked a little

Then fell apart like a clam

Boiling in hot water

With a large joint of lamb

 

As the contents spilled out

Tony ran from the house

He galloped so eagerly

He tripped over a mouse

 

He flew for some distance

The mouse shouted out ‘sorry

All they heard was a squeak

As he just missed a lorry

 

He landed in a tree

Which he thought was quite lucky

He met a girl monkey there

A new breed from Kentucky

 

She had a paper bag

With a picture of a man

He was smoking a cigar

And frying chicken in a pan

 

As he looked up

Their gazes joined together

She had tied in her hair

A small blue and white feather

 

He thought ‘that’s odd

I’ve never seen one that colour

They are normally brown

And usually much duller’

 

A shout from below

Broke the strange silence

They both looked down

And saw a cruel act of violence

 

Once more Mole was there

Scuffling with Thomas

The mouse was just watching

Eating crackers with humous

 

He was slicing cucumber

And picking out the seeds

The fight still raged on

Like a rough night in Leeds

 

As the final blow landed

Mole staggered back in a whirl

Surprised that the flamingo

Had stopped fighting like a girl

 

The Mole was defeated

And hung his head quite ashamed

His legs hurt quite badly

But he wasn’t quite maimed

 

He could only just walk though

And try as he would

He couldn’t quite run

Because his legs felt like mud

 

Thomas was chuckling

Tony joined him and danced

He’d got a new girlfriend

She was the chimp he’d romanced

 

When mole had gone

They calmed down quite a lot

They’d remembered the small box

Which they nearly forgot

 

Their attention now turned

To the spillage of gold

That lay spread on the soil

It definitely was old

 

Probably pirates treasure

A hoard from the past

Stored there for ages

Till the time came at last

 

For it to be revealed

And put upon display

For the Antiques Roadshow

To say how much they’d pay

 

It was probably worth millions

Or maybe a bit more

They decided to store it

So its value would soar

 

They hid it beneath

A large oak tree in a ditch

In a couple of years

They would certainly be rich

 

At the end of this story

They’ll unearth it and see

And find out if

Millionaires they’ll be.


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