Corn Cob War

Sitting in the backyard,
With a basket ‘tween my knees,
Breaking dry corncobs,
Snapping them with ease.

Each one finds his ammunition,
You best get a big supply,
‘Cause when you are attacked,
Don’t dare touch my supply.

Armed and ready here we go,
Forward into battle,
Better, keep yer head down,
Or yo' teeth will surely rattle.

Battlefield is a barnyard,
Soon missiles we will hear,
You best be protected,
Corncobs projectiles are near.

Hiding in the barnyard,
Ducking ‘hind a bale of hay,
Keeping my head real low,
Corncobs are zooming my way.

Peeking ‘round the bale’s end,
An enemy I try to see,
I wasn’t quick enough,
A corncob just hit me.

I have been injured in battle,
I let out a piercing scream,
The enemy falls back laughing,
This is where I get mean.

While he is enjoying his laughter,
My shirttail I’ve loaded down,
I sneak around his barricade,
And pelt him into the ground.

Now guess who is laughing,
And whose teeth have been rattled,
There goes the little sissy now,
He decided he better skedaddle.

Gayle Davis
April 25, 2002 ©
E-mail