Young Basil the Emu

[Phil Townsend]

In the middle of last year I posted "Basil" on this site. As a result I received some kind words from most but on the advice of the administrator, I gave Zondrae the brief to give me honest feedback!

She did!

I have never had the priviledge of meeting Zondrae but I am very grateful for her generosity in spending time ensuring that Basil had a responsible parent. The rhyme is fine and the metre has improved. Thank you Zondrae!

Young Basil the Emu - Phil Townsend

Young Basil the Emu knew he was the best.
Young Basil was sure he could pass any test.
He could beat any bird, he could run, run and run.
He could jump any fence and could carry a ton!

He regarded his beak as shapely and fair.
He thought that his feathers could make others stare.
He was sure others rated his muscles as beaut
And Young Basil believed that his bottom was cute.

Basil knew he was handsome and not a bit vain,
But the range of his gifts could be hard to explain
Not easily discouraged, he still liked to try.
When the flock all got sick of it he wondered why.

His mother, a solid, dependable bird,
Would sag at the shoulders whenever she heard,
Young Basil commence on his favourite theme.
He could go on forever or so it would seem.

One day the sun rose bright and clear on the plain
But birds in the flock, they were going insane.
Young Basil had come; he had stated “I see”.
Then “Who cares about that? Let’s talk about me”.

He lifted his gaze to consider his words,
When a sparrow shot past, the smallest of birds.
Young Basil could see that the sparrow could fly.
A sparrow could do it! He thought he might try.

He wondered why he’d never done it before.
With flaps of these wings he’d be able to soar.
He decided on flying right there on the spot.
His companions all thought that perhaps they might not.

“But we’d love to watch you” they said with a smile.
Basil grinned to himself, “I’ll be top of this pile.”
Young Basil could hardly contain his delight.
“Young Basil” he thought “You’ll be Master of Flight.”

He looked in the mirror and powdered his beak.
Without further thought he then raced to a peak,
He launched himself gracefully into the air.
If it was worth doing he’d do it with flair.

Young Basil the Emu was awfully fast,
But heading straight down, well these things cannot last,
For Basil the Emu, he flew like a stone,
He crashed down, a tangle of feathers and bone.

Young Basil achieved an incredible speed,
But little was left to remind of his deed.
Some thought that they noticed a feather or three.
The end of a beak was found wedged in a tree.

A wing tip was spotted some miles from the mount.
Some said that the pieces were too small to count.
Young Basil had vanished when he hit the ground.
Young Basil the Emu was not to be found.

The flock all supposed that Young Basil was dead.
A few songs were sung and a few words were said.
The funeral was tricky, the coffin was light.
They had no remains of “the Master of Flight”.

With some air of mystery, they buried the box,
Though they knew all they had was a carton of rocks.
When the service was over the comment was heard,
“I’m really not sure that’s the end of that bird.”

It was all peace and quiet in the flock after this.
If a chance came for flying they gave it a miss.
A stranger enquiring would oft hear the words,
“I’ll tell you that flying is strictly for birds.”


In the meantime, in China, Young Basil came to.
When he’d hit the earth he had blasted right through.
From such a collision he should have been dead,
But he had a helmet on inside his head.
One ear to the other (his mother had known),
Where others had brains, well this brother had bone.

Young Basil is living in China today,
He’s the biggest bird there so he gets his own way,
But he’s coming home with his story to tell,
Of when Basil the Emu went flying through hell!

He is coming home to his place in the sun,
But Young Basil won’t walk; Young Basil won’t run!
He knows that with flying his chances are slim,
But he’s seen a duck so he thinks he might swim!

[Maureen K Clifford]

This is so good - I love it - well done, can see Zondraes polishing advice has paid off

Cheers

Maureen

[Zondrae]

Welcome back Phil,

I remember Basil. There are still some spots that need attention but you have worked hard to get little Basil to this point. Do you still have a copy of the original draft? I sometimes look back at the first draft or even before that, when I am writing, to the first notes on the idea for a poem. On occasion there has been little change at all but mostly the finished poem has little resemblance to the first draft.

I will post (re post because it was on the old site.) a poem I wrote in Malaysia when we went to visit our grandson. The family were there for a year because my son-in-law was posted by Bluscope Steel to project manage the building and commissioning of a plant. Our first grandson is named Calvin at the time he was four and a half.
This poem came to me at about 4am and by the time the family were awake, it was complete. I don't think I have changed more than a word or two. Calvin is now eleven. We played Monopoly today. (need I say, He won?)

[David J Delaney]

Nice work Phil, I enjoyed the read, how could you go wrong with advise from Zondrae

(oh the power!.. first time I have used it.)Z

[Zondrae]

Thanks Dave,

Next time I need a proof reader I know where to come. error fixed.

[Phil Townsend]

Thank you David and Maureen. And thank you again Zondrae! I work in a primary school so the poetry is a school holiday thing for me.

I am sure it is good therapy so I must make time during the term.