The Donkey Survives Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

A donkey who was old and daft
fell into a deep mining shaft.
The farmer heard the donkey's cries
and when the sun rose in the skies
he went to have a quick look-see
and shook his head, how could this be
that ass can't watch where he is going.
Well, soon a Northern wind was blowing
and snow was in the morning air
the farmer scratched his balding hair
and, knowing that the well was deep
(it once had swallowed thirty sheep)
he thought about the big dilemma
and soon consulted partner Emma.
She did agree the ass was old
the weather, too was getting cold
to get the donkey up again
it would require twenty men
and ropes and hooks, a four-wheel drive
to get the beast back out alive.
Most farmers are quite practical
their thinking being tactical
and they decided they would leave
the donkey in the hole 'til eve.
The donkey heard there was no action
and he had slipped another fraction
he yelled and pleaded for his life
it bothered them, so said the wife
'Let's call the neighbours, all the boys
and use those shovels, stop that noise.
We cover him with tons of sand
it is his time, he'll understand.'

Soon, shovelfuls of sand were flying
below the donkeyass was crying
he knew of course what was in store
the smell of fear filled every pore.
But, in a minute not a sound
came up to them from under ground.
He must have, so the farmer thought
accepted what the gods had brought.
Now, donkeys can be dumb and crazy
but mostly they are pretty lazy,
each time a shovel full of sand
would on the donkey's body land
he shrugged and all the sand fell off
he shook again and had to cough
because a storm was in the air
but now he knew he still did care
and with his dainty donkeyfeet
he'd step onto the sand and peat
as it arrived and bit by bit
it looked like he would beat this shit.
Two hours later he was seen
up at the edge, still looking mean
he stepped onto the blessed land
the farmer quick, gave him a hand.
And trotted off, all bells and whistles
through sorghum grass and tasty thistles.
The farmer with his aging spouse
went back to go into their house.
The snow was coming down by now
the neighbours still were talking how
the clever donkey had been cunning
when, with a sound the beast came running.
He bit the farmer very badly
and two weeks later, very sadly
he did succumb to septic shock
and soon stretched out, stiff as a rock.

What is the moral here my friend?
It's never wise to plan the end
of animals or your own lover
if you decide to quickly cover
inside a shaft with sand and rubble
and thus escape from further trouble.
A covered ass may soon break free
and bring you plenty misery
be honest and treat donkeys right
remember, they can really bite!