On a dark and stormy night,
Two cows were on a mission,
Wandering through the soggy fields,
In search of ammunition.
For farmer Jim was plotting thus,
To slaughter them for meat.
They knew this was their only chance,
They’d have to be discreet.
The ducks were watching from the wall,
To warn if he should wake.
The sheep were packing up supplies,
To aid in their escape.
The pigs did not assist at all.
They slept right through the chatter.
They had their warm and sloshy mud,
To them it didn’t matter.
The cows returned with ample load,
Of varied kinds of missiles.
They dug and scrounged all they could find,
From basketballs to thistles.
Assemble swift the catapult,
And drag it to position!
A piece was hidden in each stall,
So not to rouse suspicion.
The signal left the gander’s throat.
The mares threw wide the door.
They loaded up the weapon full,
And made the rubbish soar.
The bedroom window crashed right through,
And woke Jim with a start.
He slipped into his boots in haste,
With hand over his heart.
The second load crushed in his roof,
Just as he stepped outside.
His eyes fell on the animals,
And he was mortified.
The charge was roared in unison.
They rushed at him en masse.
Jim screamed in horror as they came,
And hid in the tall grass.
With copied truck keys safe in hoof,
The cows jumped in the seat.
They turned the key to start her up,
And floored it down the street.
A quick high-five, a hearty laugh,
They made it! They survived!
They sent a postcard to their friends,
Home in the countryside.
© Rachel Svendsen 2014