Fable

Oi, children sit and listen

To the fable of the cul-de-sac.

Once upon a time,

In a far, far away country

War was raging,

The enemy was coming

To kill, destroy and steal.

So the father, the mother

Their three children

Took to the road on foot, 

Petrol was rationed

But it didn't matter

For they didn't have a car.

With them they took

Chickens, pigeons and rabbits,

What a normal backyard in suburbia

Would hold at that time, 

Stuffed them in big burlap sacs

All alive of course, for once

On the roads of  exile ,

Fridges are hard to come by ,

Do you know, children?

It was hard, the children tired easily

The sacs were heavy

Each night, one of the animals

Was served for tucker.

The family was lucky

For the farmers refused to help 

The horde of refugees

Descending on them.

The family started to keep guard

During the nights around the sacks,

Hunger is not bound by friendliness.

It was summer, a hot summer

The temperature kept climbing.

One day disaster struck

At the lunchtime rest

All the animals had died 

By lack of fresh air

In the big burlap sacs.

All, but one rabbit

A large giant Flanders 

It had survived by munching

A hole in the cul-de-sac.

The children named it Fifi

Refused to kill it in order to eat

It was the one that had survived.

They could see people around

Nudging each other looking at Fifi

But the family stood by it day and night.

At each rest Fifi was let out

Of its big burlap sac

And left to jump here and there

It took it no time to find water

It was clever like that .

The planes came

Bombed the bridges in front of them

They had to turn back. 

They made it back home

And so did Fifi. 

In fact it survived the war.

Why this story, do you ask?

Well, to show you

That if you find yourself in a cul-de-sac

Don't despair and dig a hole.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

All rights reserved

NaPoWrimo 2016

10/30 TSL