Poems written by Peter Gibbs over 60 years, inspired by romance, travel, the beauty of nature, emotions and family and friends - peterspoetry.co.uk
The Tale of the Mug-Jack Deer
‘Twas just before Christmas
The back end of year
When Arthur and Pat met
That bad mug-jack deer.
With a car full of presents
They were heading for York
When into their path
It decided to walk.
They couldn't avoid it
They feared for the worst
Pat was distressed
And Arthur he cursed
They got out and found it
Stretched out on the road
Injured but breathing
Around them cars slowed
Pat tried to help it
Back up to its feet
Her first aid was brilliant
It worked a real treat.
Off the deer bounded
Pat sighed with relief
Until she discovered
That buck was a thief
It had taken her handbag
Before her own eyes
From its antlers there dangled
Its ill-gotten prize.
.Into the fields
With a head-load of loot
The deer it now trotted
With Pat in pursuit
Each time she got nearer
The deer moved away
Despite all her pleading
It just wouldn’t stay
Arthur she sent back
To check on the car
If their presents were stolen
‘Twould be more bizarre.
‘Cross the mud and the stubble
Our Pat held her course
She would rescue her handbag
Though it might take force.
At last by a big barn
She cornered her prey
She reached for her bag
But the deer leapt away.
Into the distance
It went with a bound
Leaving, thank God,
Pat’s bag on the ground.
The drama was over
But after that fright
The car she found locked –
No Arthur in sight.
He had sought out a farmer –
Not gone for a beer –
Just wanted some help
To track down that damn deer.
Their car was so damaged
They had to go back
To Clanfield and change it.
Alas and alack.
The moral, my friends
Is abundantly clear.
At Christmas leave Santa
To handle the deer!