No bull, this is real
he looks at me chewing cud
I look at him
you have quite a bit of muscle
I’m glad the fence is in-between
how many press-ups, weights?
or is all just natural with you
he doesn’t ruffle to my thoughts
and just goes on a-chewing
but I can imagine action, I wouldn’t want to get in his way! it reminded me, as a boy, when camping with the ‘Scouts’ in Scotland
No bull, this is true history
we pulled up late at dusk
and hurriedly put the tents up in the corner
of a field and were soon fast asleep
it was in unsuspecting morning light
and you can guess!
when opening the tent flap door
to be confronted so!
No bull, it was shock of the first degree then ‘Scout’ action never seen before and ever since then I have, what can I say a certain face-to-face respect.
Richard Scutter October 2021
The context of this poem is embedded in the text, what is more interesting is what prompted these words. We were visiting an historic cemetery in Canberra which entailed walking along a path adjacent to a paddock with this bull close by and the photograph above is of that animal. And by association it took me back to camping with the Scouts in Scotland. This triggered a latent experience long forgotten. And Scottish highland cattle are quite something to behold but this animal certainly had a touch of menace as I looked at him with interest.