posted February 26, 2009 01:37 PM         

Taffy took a turn
he had struck a febrile nerve.
The back log of injury
had spattered his reserve.

Gem Foster made a mention
and the fraternity took interest
Their concern became a blessing
for the mess of Taffy's mistress.

Cat Molly, was no problem
little gosling could take him.
And Bernie, of ten a litter
was a friend of old man Ritter.

Lab testing out the window
there'd be no tick test for orders.
The general opinion
was that the milking would be rostered.

Pappy wasn't happy
his left hand had gone all limp.
The channel to his auto stop
was frayed with massive chinks.

Tips from all his industry
came abruptly to a halt.
His little stash of victory
would be put to keeping nurse.

Settled not, and cursing
at the hand, Coltrain, for shirking
Mistress Bryn blamed him for Taffy's turn
cos the extra strain in working.

The debts were needing settling
there was a hundredfold of bother
The chips for lighting kitty stove
were thinning in the stack.

The situation pressed her
to the sis who lived at seaside.
The 'all grown ups' had kindly left
a bedsit in the sun.

Gem Foster had no further thoughts
his own cow herd was needing work.
Coltrain was never one to bank on
and she herself had no intention.

Polly Pratt put in an offer
for the farm the Bryn's were proffering.
Though too low from this hard pressed nelly
Mistress Bryn shook unregrettably.

She was over Taffy's snoring anyways
and his knobbly wobbles made her yawn
His kind attempts at keeping love lit
Were tossed in dust bin,and swept off carpet

Brynny missus set up nurse
got the legal writ to trickle funds.
Nurse would see to all his hurts
and keep puddings in the chest.

Polly said his home was his
the sheds were all she needed.
Brynny said she'd be back often
But her eldest sis was wracked with coughin'

Poor Taffy sat and watched
as his good life went to pot
His big Miss kindly put in place
Cares to be met on a daily basis.

He wouldn't let his upset
Get the better of his memories.
The money didn't matter
it was the cold light on his plight.

He wouldn't let his heart take on
the reality of the onset.
His two-step was in tatters
and his knot craft came to nought.

The groundwater was swellin'
there was nothin' to be done.
Surroundings turning into a swamp
the jackals started circlin'.

Why an awful end to good
where's the justice in such rudeness
where's his goodly golden graces
why the sorrow and blasted waste.

Groundwater swellin'
nothin to be done
Think whilst thinking able
see to what he could.