The cloven hoofed surefootedness
The long and splendid coat
All added to the handsomeness
Of Farmer Tory's goat.
The folks would come from miles around
To pet and give it corn
For what was not (not what was) found:
It only had one horn.
The horn grew from its center head
And straight, not curved, it grew
The docile beast was gently led
To let the children view
And many hopefuls threw a wish
And let their dreams be born.
They brought the creature costly gifts
And called it unicorn.
And though the goat no power had
Nor magic did possess
The care and feeding made it glad,
And gave them happiness.
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Nice poem. It reminded me very much of my old neighbors goat (they were renters). It was black and it would walk on its hind legs. One day it broke free and grazed on the neighborhood (yup, in the city). Oh, but it did have two horns though. I miss that goat. Cheers :)
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