Fernhill Llamas

Rufus is in his pyjamas
He can almost see up to the llamas
He is cold
He is hot
I’m hungry
I’m not
Well, only if there are bananas

He’s waiting to go
Grown-ups are so slow
Let’s run up the hill
I know Tansy will
The cats can come too
But where is my shoe

Rufus is ready
So ready to go
But where are the others?
They’re always so slow

He’s running
He’s jumping
He’s skipping
Up the hill, right to the top
Tansy runs up even faster
Along come the cats but they stop

Ahead, on the hill
The llamas are still
They’re gazing
And grazing
They’re munching
And crunching

Rufus is bouncing
Excited and pleased
Tansy is cautious
She’ll wait for his lead
Dickson’s eyes widen
His fur stands up straight
McCready has scarpered
Under the gate
Dickson is puzzled
What creatures are these
They don’t smell familiar
He heads for the trees

Rufus is puzzled
He’s not going back
Tansy stays with him
They trot up the track

The llamas are coming
Their hooves sound like drumming
The cream ones, the white ones
The brown and the black
Some spotty, some shaggy
They’re not going back

They sniffle and whiffle
And Rufus, all smiles
Sniffles and whiffles
And touches their sides
They breathe down his neck
And they whisker his ears
He squeals with delight
When they nudge up so near

But there’s wind on the hill
And the herd don’t stand still

Even Rufus on nimble toes
Can’t reach the cliffs
Where the llama goes

He doesn’t want to
But sadly he knows
It’s time to go home now
Change his wet clothes

Maybe a story
A short little doze

And he’ll look out for llamas
Wherever he goes