Warwick The Warthog
by Duncan Jones
Warwick the warthog, called silly at best
Not thought of or fought for, ignored by the rest
He saw not so well, and he ate quite a lot
And wherever he sat was a very tight spot
He thpoke with a lithp, and he never ran fast
In fact in each race Warwick always was last
But he managed and foraged as warthogs should do
And the days passed on by, and he grew and he grew
Well one day came hunters, a khaki clad band
Playing not by the rules that rule the grassland
But the king could do nothing, for what could he try?
He could not fight guns, just like he can't fly
The elephant, buffalo, hippo, the same!
For they were the prize in this khaki clad game
But calmly as ever spoke Warwick aloud
"I’ll jutht have a word with our khaki clad crowd!"
So muttering, sputtering, slowly he charged!
And up to the khaki clad 4x4 barged
"Ekth-cyooth me!" He snorted, but they paid him no mind
For he wasn't the prize they had all hoped to find
"Ekth cyooth me!!!!" He grunted so one turned his way
And in that very instant it all changed that day
It was suddenly different, no can say how
But those back in the grass thought, “We cannot allow ..."
As Warwick stood squinting at what looked like the end
They had realized at once, "Warwick's our best friend!!!!"
And just as the rifle swung down face to face
Came a trumpet, a roar, that shook the whole place
The king and the hippo, the tusks and the horns
Came barreling forth with a thunder that warns
A lone shot rang out grazing Warwick’s back side
So under the truck scrambled Warwick to hide
While quickly enough those guns had calmed down
And four rifles lifted for the four on the ground
But whoa! Once again the great turmoil ensued
For under the truck was not Warwick subdued
He stood up so short with the truck on his back
And this time the guns noticed Warwick's attack
Then slowly he marched as the truck heaved and swayed
And it looked like a terrible one float parade
It lasted forever, it took really long
And the elephant said, "Wow, Warwick is strong!"
Finally down to the river, where he dumped the truck in
“We’ll take it from here!” said the crocs with a grin
And though the brave warthog collapsed on the shore
He was guarded all night by the humbled big four
They cheered, “Warwick’s a hero!” on the cool muddy banks
And Warwick just smiled, "It wath nothin', but thankth!"