I knew a Gnu, whose name was Hugh
He liked to dine on new-made stew
(Old stew, he knew, just grew and grew
(And soon became an ICKY goo)

The company he kept were few
A Cow, a Ewe, a Kangaroo
They liked to chew his new-Gnu stew
And wash it down with old-Gnu brew

While mostly happy, Hugh DID rue
That everywhere he looked, his view
Was always flat. Was never new.
Oh, what an AIRBORNE Gnu could do!

One night, as Cow and Ewe and Roo
Discoursed with him on ground-based Gnus
He had an inspiration: GLUE
Could help him soar into the blue

His friends seemed MORE than pleased
(‘tis true )
To smear their spunky chum in goo
And soon Hugh’s hue shined like a shoe
Deep dipped in dripping Daring-Do

Then chicken feathers, all askew
Were stuck onto the sticky Gnu
Who climbed high when the day was new
To LEAP and BEAT this Gnu taboo

Hugh flapped, and jumped, and
Yelled out “FOO!”
When earth made a hard rendevous
But stubborn like an old tattoo
He climbed again, to fall anew

When falls had reached some 32
The aches and pains HAD to accrue
Hugh’s body felt no longer new
He muttered “ouch!” He sobbed “boo hoo.”

He took one final look (or two)
Of space that he could not pursue
Knowing that his Gnu debut
Had simply left Gnu residue

A lesson learned: One hard but true
The land is perfect for the gnu
And now Hugh’s outlook took its cue
From just how pretty was his view

The mountains, streams, and grasslands too
Shone bright with light in morning dew
And were as beautiful below, as through
The eyes of animals that flew.

The Cow, the Ewe and Kangaroo
Picked off Hugh’s feathers three by two
He said one smiling, light "adieu"
Then went home, not to stew

But stew.


(c) 2002 Robert W. Pladek

suitable for illustration; "Hugh" done by M.Melisia http://members.tripod.com/mmoriginals/index.htm