I’d teased the Bull so many times,
all grown-ups warned he might get loose.
His heavy chain assured me of
my overwhelming power then.
Yes, he was bigger and much stronger
but I would never be afraid.
I even peed right on his head
when no one looked and he was mad.
Boy did he hate me, I could tell,
the wooden beams shook from his anger,
his coal-black eyes, so full of fire.
But I just laughed into his face.
And called him names to please myself,
when at that moment something snapped,
a loud metallic noise was heard.
And he was free and knew it well.
One hundred metres was the distance,
uphill, on cobble stones and snow,
and when I dove into the kitchen,
the door slammed shut and I was safe….
a thunderous crash made us all jump
and there he stood near smashed up door,
with steaming nostrils, but quite still.
What saved the day was my aunt Annie,
she led him back into the barn.
They didn’t need to tell me not to
go near the Bull and bother him.
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