Warwick The Warthog

by Duncan Jones


Warwick the warthog, called silly at best

Not thought of or fought for, ignored by the rest

He saw not so well, and he ate quite a lot

And wherever he sat was a very tight spot

He thpoke with a lithp, and he never ran fast

In fact in each race Warwick always was last

But he managed and foraged as warthogs should do

And the days passed on by, and he grew and he grew

Well one day came hunters, a khaki clad band

Playing not by the rules that rule the grassland

But the king could do nothing, for what could he try?

He could not fight guns, just like he can't fly

The elephant, buffalo, hippo, the same!

For they were the prize in this khaki clad game

But calmly as ever spoke Warwick aloud

"I’ll jutht have a word with our khaki clad crowd!"

So muttering, sputtering, slowly he charged!

And up to the khaki clad 4x4 barged

"Ekth-cyooth me!" He snorted, but they paid him no mind

For he wasn't the prize they had all hoped to find

"Ekth cyooth me!!!!" He grunted so one turned his way

And in that very instant it all changed that day

It was suddenly different, no can say how

But those back in the grass thought, “We cannot allow ..."

As Warwick stood squinting at what looked like the end

They had realized at once, "Warwick's our best friend!!!!"

And just as the rifle swung down face to face

Came a trumpet, a roar, that shook the whole place

The king and the hippo, the tusks and the horns

Came barreling forth with a thunder that warns

A lone shot rang out grazing Warwick’s back side

So under the truck scrambled Warwick to hide

While quickly enough those guns had calmed down

And four rifles lifted for the four on the ground

But whoa! Once again the great turmoil ensued

For under the truck was not Warwick subdued

He stood up so short with the truck on his back

And this time the guns noticed Warwick's attack

Then slowly he marched as the truck heaved and swayed

And it looked like a terrible one float parade

It lasted forever, it took really long

And the elephant said, "Wow, Warwick is strong!"

Finally down to the river, where he dumped the truck in

“We’ll take it from here!” said the crocs with a grin

And though the brave warthog collapsed on the shore

He was guarded all night by the humbled big four

They cheered, “Warwick’s a hero!” on the cool muddy banks

And Warwick just smiled, "It wath nothin', but thankth!"