This poem begins with Tycho Brahe (known long previously)
Who owned a rather strange animal that acted deviously
This pet chiefly being Alces alces (also known as a moose)
Had a slight little issue of overindulging when set loose
This odd configuration of a moose and man
Became famous in Denmark for the way they ran
So one day a nobleman wrote to Tycho and said
‘Do you have something faster than a deer on a sled?’
Tycho responded with great satisfaction, ‘Indeed, I do!
I’d be perfectly happy to lend my fastest moose to you!
But you will have to wait until after Christmas Day
If my moose (who enjoys Yuletide) is to have his say.’
The truth was that the moose was rather partial to
The festive smörgåsbord that was now to ensue:
Pickled herrings, Lucia’s lussekatter, Christmas ham with mustard,
Gravadlax salmon, Jansson’s Temptation, different sorts of custard!
But of all Nordic delicacies that day
It was Uncle Jørgen’s mead which made him bray
Oh, it was lovely! So dark and thick and sweet!
So much better than their bread or cheese or meat!
The moose would admit that he had indulged a bit too much
(To the point that for dinner the company had none such)
And Uncle Jørgen took him by his antlers and said,
‘You bloody moose! You’ve drunk all our ale and ate our spread!’
So Tycho ordered his pet back to stable
The moose bowed his head, feeling quite unable
And began to meander down the stairs
Swishing and swashing, having passed all cares
Then he stumbled: bumbling, falling and tumbling quite far down
Children laughed at the clown while women did begin to frown
Uncle Jørgen shook his head, ‘No more mead for that goose of a moose!’
A chill ran through Tycho’s synthetic nose and he cried, ‘What the deuce!’
As it was, the moose knocked his head against a cannister
And crumbled to the floor beside the wooden bannister
Two days later he died of haemorrhage and was mourned
By his owner Tycho who sobbed, ‘Poor dear, you were warned.’
A fortnight passed and he took up his quill (dipping it in ink)
And he wrote to the nobleman saying he was in a kink
‘My best moose (for whom you recently asked) has suddenly passed
And now there is no one to beat a deer on a sled going fast
‘However, I have one comfort to suggest
(Don’t think badly of the moose—he was no pest.)
But I do now have this ever-slightest hunch
That I can send you the remaining moose munch.’
We acknowledge the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, who are the Traditional Custodians of the land on which Woroni, Woroni Radio and Woroni TV are created, edited, published, printed and distributed. We pay our respects to Elders past and present and emerging. We acknowledge that the name Woroni was taken from the Wadi Wadi Nation without permission, and we are striving to do better for future reconciliation.