The Poor Mans friend, nicknamed Old Velvet Ears,
Stubborn will, qualified loyalty, Faithful servant,
transported various burdens, turf, foodstuff,
manure, timber. Survived on leftovers, grateful for
small kindnesses, sheaf of oats, slice of bread.
Children’s friend at fairgrounds, roadshows,
seaside, homestead.
Spancelled at fairs and markets, yet on
hand to take his semi-moribund master
safely home.
A stoic witness to faction fights and fracas.
Might well have pondered, Whats it all
about?, then he didn’t have access to the
Devil’s Buttermilk.
Saw Ireland on foot courtesy of travellers
encampments, was encouraged to seek food
in adjoining fields under cover of darkness.
Dumb maybe? But always able to easily find
the favourite field after lengthy absence.
Of placid nature, yet saw service on many fields
With legendary El Cid in Spain,
Napoleon in Europe, on hand at O’Connell’s
monster meetings at Tara.
A reliable barometer of weather patterns.
On high open ground when weather was kind.
Otherwise found in most sheltered
corner with its tail to the wind.
At Dawn of Christianity he was the conduit
of the most important mission since Noah
boarded the Ark.
Legend says; Our Saviour’s Cross was
imprinted on its back.
After many centuries of unremitting toil and
hardships, has finally found recognition
as a friend to all humanity.