General Poetry posted May 12, 2024


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A very good mule

Old Brown

by Willie P. Smith

I remember well
When I was in school,
My Grandad would let me
Ride his old mule.
 
Brown was just right
For a little boy,
Riding him brought
Me bunches of joy.
 
Old Brown was 
As slow as a snail,
Not an animal you'd use
To deliver the mail.
 
Although very large
About sixteen hands,
He was smart
And obeyed all my commands.
 
When going to school,
He knew the route.
I'd get on him
And away we'd scoot
 
I could get him
Into a fast trot,
A gaited mule
He was not.
 
There was an old barn
Across the street,
And plenty of hay
For him to eat.
 
He didn't care how long
He stayed in the barn.
There was plenty of food
And nice and warm.
 
He was a good mule,
I loved him of course,
Dad thought he was better
Than a farm horse.
 
I trusted old Brown,
He was my friend,
I  loved and cared for him
Until the end.
 
One morning I found him,
Lying in his stall.
Old Brown had answered
The mule God's call.
 
Willie P. 05/12/24

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A boy and his friend, a mule.
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