Of social graces, does the Yak,
Have, at best, a dreadful lack.
He never waits his turn to speak,
He’ll rattle on and on for weeks,
And if you try to have your say,
He’ll just ignore you anyway.
He gives you not the slightest choice,
You have to listen to his voice
And even if you answer back,
He’ll never stop his yackety, yackety, yackety, yackety, yackety, yackety yak.
It wasn’t until I’d written this that I realised I had no real idea at all of what a Yak looked like.
I looked it up. It is a whopping big Tibetan cow. I’m pleased I didn’t know this at the time. It could quite easily be a very mannerly creature. If I’d known when I started, I would have had to start all over again…