The old goat and the tree.
‘Where’s the shame in being honest?’
Said the old goat to a tree,
You think I’ll never climb up you?
Well just you wait and see’.
So the goat started making a ladder,
Out of old sticks and leaves,
The tree looked down shocked,
As the goat places the rocks,
That would allow him to climb up the tree.
Now the goat had a smile when he finished,
But he knew the job was far from done,
He stepped up feet light,
And it made quite the sight,
As the goat then started to run.
But the ladder he built came falling,
And the goat came tumbling down,
But he’d done his best,
The rest was the rest,
And the goat didn’t die with a frown.
Now nobody thinks this poem,
Will be about an old goat who dies,
And I’d say it is not,
Nor about sticks that rot,
But about the old goat who tried.