When we got to the gate this is what we found
the latch was broken, lying on the ground
that was a problem, imagine the scene
although now closed with nothing to be seen
the gate might open if there was a breeze
any cows or sheep could escape with ease
we looked and we found a hay bale lying near,
thinking quick we knew the answer was clear,
a piece of pink string was tied around the bale
we could tie the gate up, that wouldn’t fail
so even if the bale might lose some hay
we knew we had done our good deed for the day
When the pen takes control. 
I like it.
I’ve seen farm gates tied with everything imaginable. But when I saw this one tied in pink… had to be a photo
LikeLiked by 1 person
And I can suppose you have divined the tale of it
LikeLike
It had me spellbound
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 me too
LikeLike
Cute and fun
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sadly, qualities with which I have never been credited but thanks for passing a nice comment
LikeLiked by 1 person
No? Well I enjoyed the poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great poem, and cleverly crafted story of the strange, pink-stringed gate.
LikeLiked by 1 person