Animal Farm


It was early in the morning when the ants were still asleep.
When the fields were full of baa-lambs and the dung was in a heap.
Along came the bull his tail swishing loudly and shoulders hanging low.
He made the noise that bulls make then was answered by a crow.

“Shut-up you noisy beast,” it said. “You’re making too much noise.
Hold yourself up straight and I’ll teach you how to have poise.
Look at me, dear thing. I’m sleek, polished and glossy, good looking to a tee.
You’ll need to tuck in that tummy of yours if you want to look like me.”

“Moo, moo, and more moo. You’re an ugly bird and no mistake.
It’s you who should shut up. You’re giving me a headache
And when I’m cross I’m very cross, liable to stamp on a little bird.
Do us both a favour fly off over the yard and talk to the goatherd.”

“Will you two be quiet as we are trying to have a rest.

The disturbance you two are causing is making us completely stressed.

There are more of us than either of you and this farmyard is all our own.

We might consult with the chickens and make the yard an animal-free zone.”


The farmer’s wife, apron swaying, entered the scene in a rush
She held a saucepan in one hand and in the other she held a brush.
“We will have steak for lunch, pork chops, and chicken later tonight,
As for you-you shrieking crow you’re for a pie that will be sealed—airtight!”

“This place is going to the dogs,” said the dung-beetle to the crowd.
“I believe in live and let live, but not if you’re all shouting out loud.
Leave me to live and do my job or the stink will kill you all,
And the farmer will come to count the stock and there will be a huge shortfall.”

Farmer Giles fired his blunderbuss killing the chickens and his wife
The Bull ran to the cowshed to have the time of his life.
The Pigs shared the dung beetle tearing it apart,
Then dived into the dung heap all giving off a smelly fart

Boom, Boom

© 2019, Daniel Kemp All rights reserved.

About Daniel Kemp

Daniel Kemp’s introduction to the world of espionage and mystery happened at an early age when his father was employed by the War Office in Whitehall, London, at the end of WWII. However, it wasn’t until after his father died that he showed any interest in anything other than himself! On leaving academia he took on many roles in his working life: a London police officer, mini-cab business owner, pub tenant and licensed London taxi driver, but never did he plan to become a writer. Nevertheless, after a road traffic accident left him suffering from PTSD and effectively—out of paid work for four years, he wrote and self-published his first novel —The Desolate Garden. Within three months of publication, that book was under a paid option to become a $30 million film. The option lasted for five years until distribution became an insurmountable problem for the production company. All seven of his novels are now published by Creativia with the seventh—The Widow’s Son, completing a three book series alongside: What Happened In Vienna, Jack? and Once I Was A Soldier. Under the Creativia publishing banner, The Desolate Garden went on to become a bestselling novel in World and Russian Literature in 2017. The following year, in May 2018, his book What Happened In Vienna, Jack? was a number one bestseller on four separate Amazon sites: America, UK, Canada, and Australia.  Although it's true to say that he mainly concentrates on what he knows most about; murders laced by the mystery involving spies, his diverse experience of life shows in the short stories he writes, namely: Why? A Complicated Love, and the intriguing story titled The Story That Had No Beginning. He is the recipient of rave reviews from a prestigious Manhattan publication and described as—the new Graham Green—by a highly placed employee of Waterstones Books, for whom he did a countrywide tour of book signing events. He has also appeared on 'live' television in the UK publicising that first novel of his. He continues to write novels, poetry and the occasional quote; this one is taken from the beginning of Once I Was A Soldier There is no morality to be found in evil. But to recognise that which is truly evil one must forget the rules of morality.
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