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THE MOA BIRD ©

Tom Barker
Joondalup, Australia
2004

Young Fred was feedin’ his pet gold fish,
an’ almost fell over aff the chair.
Cos the gold fish bowl was on the sideboard,
and young Fred could not reach it frae the flair.

Fred hed jist sprinkled the watter wi’ ant eggs,
wen he spotted movement ootside oan the grass.
“Jings!” he greeted hoarsely,
then zipped curtains across windy gless.

On the lawn towered a New Zealand Moa bird,
wi’ a bloke swinging on the end of a rope.
But some joker hed tied a knot in its neck,
cos it hed swallowed a big bar o’ soap.

Young Fred yelled, “There’s a bloke wi’ a big Moa.
rinnin’ aw ower oor gress!"
And Fred’s Mum yelled, “Tell hem ti wait!”
then dashed awa ti get inti her new dress.

Fred’s Mum nonchalantly trickled oot o’t front door,
then suddenly stopped as if in shock.
Instead of finding a handsome grass cutter,
she lamped a sight that would now stop a clock.

She did wot most people do wen the smalls are wet,
then screamed and grabbed a garden spade.
She whacked that Moa one Moa time.
and screamed, “Now, yu backstud, get!”

But today she buys New Zealand soap,
cos the lather has Moa suds.
Now she sits and dreams of next Spring,
when hopefully Nature will produce Moa buds.


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