Ulon the Great is a fearless creature,
Pawing at the ground.
Smoke billowing from his nostrils
He takes his mark as the four sons giggle at the end of the trail.
The ding of the wind chimes in the farm house,
he is off and galloping.
Thump, thump, thump goes his paws on the grassy meadow.
Ulon ambles down the path past the chicken coop,
beyond the grazing sheep,
over the four foot picket fence,
finally into the white sheet,
the boys took off the clothesline,
dragging the curly-haired son and his three brothers
across the acreage with the fabric.
From the kitchen window their mother and father
laugh at their boys’ faces.
Ulon finally stops in a mud pit on the hill
with the perfectly filthy white tapestry
under his feet.

He licks the boys’ dirty faces
and wags his tail
as if to say he wants to do it again.
But just as they are about to, the dinner bell sounds
So the boys and Ulon make their way across the field and into the white farm home
with its blue shutters and the hot meal waiting for them.