At the Zoo

Writer's Cramp: Write a pantoum about a Zoo Animal --The pantoum is a Malayan form of poetry consisting of any number of quatrains.

The tricky part of this form is that lines 2 and 4 of each stanza become lines 1 and 3 of the next stanza. The carry-over lines are called repetons. The last stanza has a twist: lines 1 and 3 of the first stanza become lines 2 and 4 of the last, only reversed (3 becomes 2 and 1 becomes 4).

The most used Pantoum form is a set of three rhyming couplets, a couplet is containing two quatrains… Also known are Pantoums with five rhyming couplets – a total of ten quatrains.

In fact there is no official length for a pantoum, but . . . you have to follow the rhyme scheme.


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At the Zoo

“The zebra looks a lot like a horse,
standing on four long-hooved legs,
but he doesn’t have stripes, of course.”
“And, he’s not,” says my brother Greg.

“Standing on four long-hooved legs,
it’s plain he looks like a giraffe.”
“And, he’s not,” says my brother Greg,
turning to me with a laugh.

“It’s plain he looks like a giraffe,
but his neck is not nearly as long .”
Turning to me with a laugh,
my brother says, “This is wrong.”

“But his neck is not nearly as long,”
I say, “He must be more like a deer.”
My brother says, “This is wrong.”
Yet, I see that Greg’s not sincere.

I say, “He must be more like a deer
Because he can run whenever he needs.”
Yet, I see that Greg’s not sincere.
Greg shakes his head and says, “Indeed.”

Because he can run whenever he needs.
It’s possible he’s much like those cheetahs.
Greg shakes his head and says, “Indeed.”
“Bet he’s faster than even mosquitos!

Maybe he’s more like those cheetahs.”
My brother shrugs and walks away.
“Bet he’s faster than even mosquitos!”
I run after him, but wish he’d stay.

My brother shrugs and walks away;
I close my mouth and bide my time.
I run after him, but wish he’d stay.
But it’s late, almost lunchtime.

I close my mouth and bide my time,
Thinking about the zebra’s stripes.
But it’s late, almost lunchtime
“He’s like a horse; more that type!”

Groans and moans are Greg’s replies.
“But he doesn’t have stripes, of course.”
My brother stops and nods. “Yes,” he sighs,
“The zebra looks a lot like a horse.”


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