When we think of a giraffe
by Terry Donovan
We think of that long neck
That reaches to the tree tops
While its feet are on the deck
But it isn’t just it’s neck that’s long;
On extended legs they come
And there’s six or seven feet between
Ground level and their bum
And what is quite amazing is
When they are giving birth
The little one just has to fall
That distance to the earth.
The poor wee thing must be quite stunned
And woken with a jerk
And straight away it tries to stand
On legs that that don’t quite work.
It staggers upright, sways about
As best as it is able,
Its legs in all directions
Like a boot sale coffee table.
Then having got that sorted out
And after one last shudder,
It has to find its mother
And get started on the udder.
Oh, mother nature’s wonderful.
Her methods aren’t that clever,
But everything works out all right.
Giraffes go on forever.