Beyond the Tail

The wordy world of wicked, wise and wonderful creatures

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Mr Giraffe

Wonderful illustration of Mr Giraffe by the ridiculously talented Nadia Khan


The Flamin Flamingo – Part One

Out in the outback
Wild is wild
And folk must hunt for a living
The Sheilas are one pack
That ain’t domiciled
And believe in taking not giving

They wander the land
With an eye on the prize
Of dingo, koala or roo
This monstrous band
Of all shapes and size
May one day be coming for you

They raid and they trade
Almost anything
But one item, they really desire
Is a flamingo who’s made
From his beak to his wing
Of feathers that burn like a fire

One day on the hunt
They threw down their sacks
Full of koala and dingo
They looked out to the front
Pulled up their slacks
And crowed in unison, “Bingo”

“A flamin’ flamingo!”
The Sheilas said
Spottin his feathers a shimmer
“Forget the dingos,
We’ll take ‘im instead,
Imagine the worth o’ that glimmer!”

“Stealer Sheilas!”
The flamingos cried
“They’re after his fiery feather
Those wheeler dealers
We can not abide
Go for it! Run hell for leather!”


Mr Giraffe


Well Hello there, Mr Giraffe!

Look at you with your head in the trees,

What wonderful colourful patches

And funny knobbly knees


It’s a wonder you don’t fall over,

Reaching up there for your meals

But maintain elegance and composure,

Like a lady in stiletto heels


I much prefer you to a zebra,

Black and white is so last year

And stripes are simply nothing,

Against your smart patchwork fur


And you have such a gentle face,

Compared to the mean buffalo

You don’t feel rushed like a cheetah,

But take things nice and slow


I’m not worried that you’ll eat me,

Won’t rip me with tooth and claw

Your gentle voice won’t scare me,

Not like a horrible roar


No, I feel you would be courteous

If you spoke, you would say, ‘Good Day’

A gentleman of the Savannah

Going on his merry way


My long eye-lashed, long legged friend

You’re my favourite I suppose

For your special giraffe gentility

From your head to your little hoof toes

The Pink Heart Flamingo

There’s a place of romance
Where the birds always sing low
And that’s where you’ll find
The pink heart flamingo

Neck around neck
Cheek to feathered cheek
These birds are always dancing
Their dances, beak to beak

Declarations of love
‘Mademoiselle, Je t’adore’
As this light footed dancer
Spins his lady round the floor

Here under the moonlight
Romance will never end
As the pink heart flamingo
Twirls his lady friend

more flamingos

Mein Cat by Judah Grear


I had never met a cat quite as troubled as he,

Slanted Adolf whiskers betrayed a fascist tendency

In his philosophy, he never pretended to be,

Anything other than a catastrophe


From the moment that kitten arrived outside the door,

We knew life would never be as it had been before

Each resounding purr followed by the swipe of a claw,

Furry Der Fuhrer had arrived as the law


The occupation was swift, and resistance futile,

We had to admire his efficiency and style

We were blind to the plan, and all the meanwhile,

He was taking over his new domicile


The dogs’ bed was soon his centre of power,

He held his position with a hiss and a glower

Observing us mere mortals from his ivory tower,

Little Kitty’s milk was now beyond sour


Never such a cattitude of “I’ll do what I please”,

Then when he ambushed a pair of passing knees

He even recruited an army of fleas,

This was an autocat, you could not appease


His demands grew daily, More Milk! More Fish!

And as he grew fatter, he grew more feindish

We, mere providers of each need and wish,

Filling the despot, so he could flourish


I never believed one day he’d disappear,

Was the fish not fresh? Were his purrs not sincere?

The regime is now over. We live without fear

But Das feline’s ambitions have notched up a gear


An everlasting expansive occupation,

Working his way from location to location

He can resist everything except for temptation,

As he secures his plans for world domination