|November 29, 2005||Posted by Secretary under Poems||
Now a wheel barrow usually has only one wheel,
Or two at the very most.
Derek once had a barra with four,
And you should have heard him boast.
The loads he moved with that 4-wheeled barra,
Were quite beyond belief
But believe you me ,that 4-wheeled barra
Certainly gave him some grief.
If it wasn’t the tyres letting him down,
They were always getting a puncture,
It was the extra weight of heavy loads ,
Why man ,he was one step short of a rupture.
The box itself must have weighed a ton,
It was built with scrap pallets and ply
And its handles resembled the shafts of a cart
And believe me thats no lie.
Even when empty it still weighed a lot,
Never mind when it was full to the neck,
But would he listen to his nearest and dearest,
Would he bloomin-well heck.
He would huff and puff,and moan and groan,
Until his face would go bright red,
He often slumped over the load he pushed,
And could easily be taken for dead.
It was far to heavy for a man his age,
In fact a horse would find it hard going,
But he kept on gathering firewood,
To keep the house warm when it was snowing.
Now after a while he was forced to agree,
His engine could not match that barra,
So with a tear in his eye and a smile on his face,
He sawed up and burned his best marra.