Goats

Trotting through the dusk
on that deserted country lane,
a sight I'd never seen before
- nor never will again

As if by magic
there suddenly appeared
a host of hairy goats,
unusual and weird.

The big orange leader
inspected his troops,
made them form lines,
sorted them in groups.

Marched up and down
like a sergeant at roll-call
I'd swear on my life
he inspected them all.

A fat multi-coloured chap
with horns that curled round.
A scrawny old bill
with a beard down to the ground.

A milk laden nanny,
two kids close behind
bickering and snickering
(they had an axe to grind).

Elegant twins
with hooves painted pink
and roses twined around their ears
(at least that's what I think).

They came in their fives
and they came in their tens,
they stretched so far along the road,
I couldn't see the end.

So where were they headed,
this brightly coloured throng?
Straight past me and towards the pub
that I'd just staggered from!

Copyright; Kathleen Thorpe
Email: poemsgalore@talk21.com
Web Site: http://www.angelfire.com/journal2/poemsgalore