Bull

Standing in the rain.
Shoulders hunched, head hung low.
Waiting
Waiting.
Glimpse of a red jacket,
Is it her?
Run
Run
To see her.
So the bull passed his days.
#130story

The handsome bull
Was replete and full
He'd eaten so much grass
But though he couldn't budge
He got gold from the judge
For his fine ruby red ass
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#130story

They called him the Bull
Champion of everything
No one he couldn't pull
Black belt at something
All stories told by him
So was called the Bull

At the old Brown Bull
The air reeked of desperation
Booze, cigarettes and sweat
Old school unshaven faces
Untapped talent and regret.
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That wasted youth, that time spent in the pub or practicing in the garage.
Day after day and night after night but it was all worth while.
The arrow left his hand and he willed it to make its mark.
Treble tops, treble tops, bull.
A 170 checkout. Magic Darts!
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John was at home in the farmyard
He’d sit and pet his bull
But on a Friday night he’d go to town
Poor John went on the pull.

Last week he met a girl named daisy
With a smile from head to her toes
It wasn’t that he fancied her
But she had a ring right through her nose
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