Mudman

One wet weekend last winter
When snow refused to fall,
From mud I made a claymate
Broad and six feet tall.

I pelted Clay with mudballs,
He stared and stood his ground,
Magnificent and muddy
He uttered not a sound.

At first he was a softy
But summer made him hard
And he did look pretty scary
Standing guard in our back yard.

Now it’s autumn and I’m searching
For a conker for his nose
To surprise him on his birthday,
He’ll be thrilled with one of those.

He’s been better than a snowman,
Clay, my mudman, lots more fun,
And Clay has stayed when long ago
A snowman would have run.

So, though I’m still fond of snowmen
I will say this as I end,
My massive, messy, mudman’s
Made a more enduring friend.