The Butcher’s Best Friend


Sweet scent of smoke hung like a greyish sheet

There in the shop at the end of the street

The comers and goers paid him no mind

If he had a job, not one I could find


But he lounged there all day, nothing to say

As people strolled in and good money paid

When he rare arose, he’d be gone for a bit

Then lazily return, again he would sit


The butcher worked hard, the freshest meat known

Cleaver all day sliced sinew and beat bone

As dusk fell, anyone could plainly see

The butcher, as tired as one man can be


But before he did retire, dinner he brought

To this silent partner, who had done naught

For a moment, I envied his lazy life

No cares, no needs, and absent of strife


Idle all day while the other sells meats

Rewarded in pay with the finest of feasts

Dining on the scraps of cattle and hog

Oh, what a joy to be the butcher’s dog


16 Responses to “The Butcher’s Best Friend”
  1. beth says:

    ah, the end –

  2. K.L. Hale says:

    This is brilliant, Brad! It absolutely made me giggle and appreciate your gift of words even more!

  3. jonicaggiano says:

    This is great Brad. It gave me a big smile. I kept thinking I have read this piece before. ❤️🦋

    • Brad Osborne says:

      Guilty as charged. I had posted this poem previously. Wanted to share it with the newcomers who probably won’t read that far back in my archives. Thanks, Jonikins!

      • jonicaggiano says:

        Nothing wrong with that Brad. I hope what it does show you is that your work is remarkable and is also memorable. I was just a few lines through and I thought I love this piece. Big hugs 🤗 my dear friend. ❤️Jonikins

  4. I have to agree about having read this before. It’s still very enjoyable and makes me smile at the end!

  5. kristianw84 says:

    I also remember reading this before, but it’s just as good the second time around!

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