My Favourite Mr.Donkey Trumph

My favourite Mr.Donkey Trumph

My Favourite Mr. Donkey Trumph

- by SP &AKP

I have a favourite donkey,

Whose name is Donkey Trumph.

All day he goes dichu dichu,

While blowing his own trumpet—thump!

Though he claims to be an eagle,

He dwells in a dreamy land,

Now surrounded by piggy friends

From far-off "Donkey Land."

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He demands, and often gets,

Pampering, praise, and cheers—

Accolades from little friends,

Confirming all his fears.

With 24/7 dichu dichu,

His throat grows dry, poor guy...

He drinks a lot—then pees a lot—

In jungles, far and wide.

He orders others not to drink,

Nor pee, nor dare complain,

But every sparkle in the woods,

He claims as his domain.

"Another fire? I’ve got this one!"

He shouts with noisy charm—

Then sprays his watery discharge

To "save" the forest from harm.

One day, a pandemic swept the woods,

The jungle gasped in fright.

Mr. Trumph did some inquiry—

Then picked a Panda fight.

He yelled out all sorts of names,

Demanding full account,

He crowned him "Mr. Corona"

With loud and rude amount.

He cried and sighed (rona-dhona),

Then played a yuan-yield game,

Settled deals with “China’s pocket,”

Though still loud all the same.

Then came his bored, old forest friends,

From Europe's grassy lanes,

Craving Games of Thrones-style fun,

They stirred their neighbour’s plains.

As they munched around the table,

Chomping crisps with greedy grin,

They poked the mighty Eastern lands—

Let some new games begin.

Then came the fierce Grey Wolf,

Wearing blue and gold with pride,

“I’m Ukraine—I’ve got a tale,

The world must take my side!”

But suddenly the ground did quake—

The forest held its breath...

It was the mighty Russian Bear,

Snarling threats of death.

"I don’t play games," the Bear declared,

"I stomp, I grab, I roar."

Donkey Trumph just took a step

As Bear claimed half the floor.

The Elephant from Maharaja’s land

Walked in with stately grace.

With wisdom in each steady step,

He spoke with calmest face:

"Friends, this jungle's old and wide,

We’ve roared and ruled before...

But now it’s time to build, not break—

To open, not shut doors."

The Springbok came from sunlit plains,

With pride and silent might.

He leapt and danced past noisy claims,

And vanished out of sight.

Then prowled the Tiger, bold and bright,

From India’s forest throne.

He growled, “Respect is earned, not barked—

Not claimed with sound alone!”

Through the vines came a sleek Jaguar,

From Brazil’s lush green domain.

He whispered, “I hunt in silence, friend—

No trumpet. No terrain."

"I do not roar to seek applause,

Nor brag to feel success—

Unlike this braying trumpet beast,

Forever loud and stressed.”

At last arrived the wise old Beaver,

From Canada’s quiet shore.

He built a dam, sat on a log,

And said, “Can we fight no more?”

So creatures came from every land,

With pride, and power, and say—

While Donkey Trumph just brayed and brayed…

Still sure he’d win the day.

© Sweety Pandey and  Amit kr Pandey

All rights reserved