I find it strange
that
I have never written a poem
(or met)
a wombat.
.
To be honest,
I’m not quite sure what a wombat is,
or looks like.
Is it like the Pipistrelle,
or the Cricket bat?
Is it related to a Brickbat,
or an Acrobat?
Does it swim in the sea,
or climb high in a tree;
does it have a long tail,
fins, arms and legs,
multiple flippers like a flippadipperee;
does it lay eggs,
or give birth in flight;
have you a picture
from which I just
might
recognise a wombat?
.
No wonder
I have never written a poem
about
a wombat,
I doubt
if my words
would capture its essential worth
it might just look
like a spoonful of Earth.
If your words indicate stubborn, cheeky, cute but solid brick butt, then you have a wombat attitude. If you have a marsupial pouch, sharp teeth, and chase off intruders, you have a wombat attitude. If you plough through fences like a tractor, dig under house foundations with no effort, and decimate a lovely veg garden in an hour, then you have the attitude of a wombat.
And they can run. And nip at your heels. Funny to watch until they see you and decide you need the lesson, too!
Ah! You are a professor of the Wombat. I am informed by your words. They seem to have a wombattitude!
Thank you, Cage, wisdom is your name.
G:)
I had a warren of them under my house, once. When the builders came to repair the damage, I asked them to not disturb the wombats and they gave me a huge discount for looking after them.
And I learned to build wombat-proof veg-garden fences
So, you are also an Angel 💚
Or someone who lives in fear of wombat revenge on ankles!
Ha! There is always that option. G:)