An ode to Ingrid Newkirk

A heroine to those that can’t defend themselves!

A champion with the heart of a lion

And the soul of a saint

Helps the critters that are crying

Get daily hurt and maimed

Her weapons choose with skill and Wyle

She tackles powerful and tall

And fashions reckless style

To help all critters big and small

To be the hero of their cause

Their voiceless voice be heard

She plays to us no Santa Claus

Nor is she kind, but curt

She has no time for niceties

Their lives to save today

Or time for tea

Or any other play

She dreams of saving every life

If at all could be

Works day and night with all that strife

Just barely a fee

No matter how these little treasures

No reward on her can pin

But knowing in her heart gives pleasure

To save our cousins kin

It’s not a glorious job she has

Sometimes she’s much despised

Yet she’s as tough as nails and brass

Her courage not disguised

When most good folks will see her way

Stand up and help her fight

And sinful fashion slay

To wander in Gods light

This heroine of helpless beings

In heaven find reward for sure

To bring us to enlighten seeing

And others not hell on earth endure!

With my compliments to Ingrid Newkirk

20/11/2007