Mama and the Bull

Our kids grew up hearing
The tale of
Mama and the bull,
And were witnesses
To the story’s evolution
Over time.
The story never sounded
The same twice,
At least when she told it,
But I am here
To set the record straight.
During our trip
Around England
Back in the summer of 78,
My wife, Cecilia, and I
Spotted a small lake
That was stunningly beautiful,
So I stopped
To check it out.
We crossed a pasture
That led down to
A row of trees
Just this side of the lake.
Once we got to the trees,
We looked back
And noticed two bulls
At the far end of the pasture
We had just crossed.
They had apparently
Watched us as we
Traversed their territory.
The younger of the two
Adopted a belligerent attitude
About our intrusion,
And commenced to snorting
And pawing the ground.
I, like an idiot,
Did the same back at him
And the bull took that
As a direct challenge
To his authority
As well as his bullhood.
He charged our position
Just as we bolted
For the fence.
We were almost there
When Cecilia panicked
And froze in place
Crying “Don’t leave me!
Don’t leave me!”
So I had to carry her
The rest of the way.
Thereafter Cecilia tried
To rationalize her paralysis,
Insinuating that the bull
Wouldn’t have attacked
A stationary target,
But I figure
It would have been
A rather poor time
To test that theory.
Somehow with each
Telling of the tale,
Cecilia got braver
And the bull got tamer,
Until the last versions
I heard had her putting
Flowers in its nose.
Now the bull did get close,
But nowhere near that close.