Mick the Dig

 

Mick the Dig was working hard

Digging holes in his back yard.

He’d dig a hole then fill it in,

The point of which was lost to him.

Though deep inside he sort of prayed

That if he dug enough each day

That sure enough, eventually,

He’d find some gold beneath his feet.

For Mick the Dig was never fussed

To work too hard to earn his crust.

He’d rather waste the days away

Digging holes than earn his pay.

 

Then one day in early spring,

When sun and rain were mingling,

There Mick saw, way up high,

A rainbow arched across the sky.

Now we all know the tale is told

That every rainbow carries gold;

That at the point where bow meets ground

A chest of gold can there be found.

‘That’s it!’ said Mick with sheer delight,

‘I’ll chase that bow of rain-fed light

And when I reach the place it rests

I’ll dig until I find that chest!’

 

So off he trundled with his spade

To find the place where gold was made

Across the fields and streams he strode

His eyes upon that coloured bow.

So blind was he in all his greed

He failed to take sufficient heed

Of all the dangers up ahead

Til down into a hole he went.

Down and down a hundred feet

Did poor Mick fall til he did meet

The soggy bottom with a clout,

All dark and wet with no way out.

 

He struck a match so he could see

Where his fall caused him to be.

But all the yellow light could show

Were high and endless walls of stone.

But strangely through the stone arose

A pungent odour to his nose;

And then he realised the fact

The smell he smelt was leaking gas.

Too late he tried to squash the flame

That lit the walls around the cave,

And with a true volcanic BOOOOOM!

Mick was launched towards the moon.

 

High he soared above the ground

His limbs a-waving all around;

Til with final certainty

He soon succumbed to gravity.

Far below the lush fields lay

But for one large pile of hay.

Flapping arms he tried to glide

Towards the soft and golden pile,

Yet sure as elephants can’t fly

Nor could Mick for all his trying.

And as the ground grew closer still

Mick let out a scream so shrill,

For far from landing soft in hay

Something else lay in the way.

Small pink spots began to grow

With fat pink legs and fat pink nose.

A piggery! And with those pigs

A puddle that was OH, SO BIG!

SPLASH! and SPLOOSH! And GLUG! he went

Into the mud up to his head.

And far away across the hills

No closer was that rainbow still.

 

With spade in hand, awash with dirt,

Mick moved on, despite his hurt,

Determined now to do his best

To find the rainbow’s golden chest.

Up and down the hills he paced

Determined he would win the race.

As fast as Christmas Mick’s feet went

To catch up with the rainbow’s end,

Too fast was he to even see

A shoelace that had broken free.

And sure enough, with just a slip,

Mick went on another trip.

 

Down the hill, head over heels,

Rolled poor Mick like a Ferris wheel.

Through brambles, gorse and nettle sting

Mick sped on through everything;

Through streams and bogs and mud knee deep

And smelly stuff left by a sheep.

Until at last with one great flop

He finally came to a stop.

 

And at his feet shone like a friend

The rainbow’s… yes… the RAINBOW’S END!

 

Upon the ground like broken jewels

Of red and orange, green and blue,

The rainbow’s colours led the way

To where the chest of gold might lay.

So Mick, despite his aching limbs,

Picked up his spade and got stuck in.

Through the muck he mined and gouged

Til suddenly down in the ground…

 

‘IT’S GOLD!’ yelled Mick. ‘It’s gold I’ve struck!

At last a little piece of luck!’

And down he fell upon his knees

To extricate what he had seen.

His fingers scrabbled in the dirt

To grab the gold that he’d unearthed,

And shining up from in the ground

A new and glinting…

...single

…pound.

 

Mick’s round eyes, one black, one blue,

Cast his gaze across the loot.

He had not words enough to say

Of what he’d found that very day.

Down holes he’d slipped, then blown up high,

Then cast into the piggy’s sty;

He’d rolled down hills through brush and thorn

His hair messed up and clothing torn.

 

Then slow but sure, upon his face,

The widest smile slid into place.

‘It’s true!’ he said. ‘I comprehend,

That gold lies at the rainbow’s end!’

And with the joy he’d always missed

He held that coin tight in his fist.

Then having felt such joy profound,

He placed the coin back in the ground.

 

And at his feet shone like a friend,

The rainbow’s…yes…THE RAINBOW’S END.