BEASTLY TALES

THE CAMEL DRIVER

In faraway Arabian Lands,
On searing flying desert sands,
Lives an animal in sun hot and glary,
With the unusual name of “Dromedary.”
The Dromedary can run so fast,
That in any race it’s never last,
But try to get it to carry a load,
It’ll switch right into neutral mode.
For they’re bred to run and not to lift,
So carrying is not quite their gift.
Although with a certain amount of coercion,
They may decide on some lifting exertion,
But not without some groans and belches,
With lots of spitting, gurgling squelches.
Just to let their camel driver,
Know they have such sweet saliver.

Achmed Bin Ally was a camel driver,
His dromedary was used to deliver,
Salt from the mines to the port.
Where he collected his money just as he ought.
One trip, as he was slowly crossing the dunes,
He came across some Arab goons,
They said the equivalent of “Stand and Deliver!”
But stepped right back when Achmed, hands aquiver,
Pointed at them an antique blunderbus,
An old fashioned shot gun that makes quite a fuss.
As it explodes with a most fearsome bang,
Shooting pellets at villians with mighty clang.
Achmed yelled at the fleeing villain, “You dolt,”
“All I am carrying are bags of salt!”
The very next day Achmed and his camel did see,
The coastline of the Arabian sea.
And there, indeed, were ships in the port,
Causing the camel to dance and to snort,
Because he now knew there would be water and food,
Achmed’s thoughts may have been a bit more lewd.

On the return trip they took a different route,
This time there was no need for a blunderbus shoot.
There were no signs of Arab goons,
But this time there was a troupe of Baboons.
They were near the edge of the desert sand,
Near a strange North African land.
The Baboons were mischievously playful and quick,
And some of Achmed’s stores they did pick,
Then they would scamper away,
To gobble the food in a manner quite gay.

Achmed wearily trod the long path home,
And released his camel into a field, not to roam.
Until the next trip comes around,
And on to the coast they would be bound.
Achmed sat down to have his dinner,
Saying to his wife, “This is a winner!”
“The only thing is, it does not have salt,”
“Considering what my cargo is, I feel such a dolt.”
“My salt cellar is empty, without a grain”
“Must I return to the coast to obtain,”
“Salt, which is vital in a climate so hot.”
“Should I do this, or should I do not.”