George giraffe’s neck had started to sag,
Right near the end of the zoo parade.
Under his chin someone hung the flag -
Waving high, what a statement that made.
And how proud was the tall animal,
A live pole, unfurling Old Glory.
His children were the proudest of all.
Their dad’s neck stretched to a third story.
But the wind was blustery that day,
And poor old George had all he could do
To hold his head up all of the way,
While carrying the red, white and blue.
The huge flag measured six feet by eight,
And it whipped, curled and snapped in the breeze.
For the strong giraffe, a heavy weight,
But at first it was held high with ease.
Then, muscles became quite sore and strained,
With the effort supporting that flag,
But no matter how much his throat pained,
George giraffe refused to let the flag drag.
Next day he couldn’t raise up his head,
For all his muscles were limp, he found.
But George made lots more friends, so he said,
With his face that much nearer the ground.
© Richard McCusker