The goose that lays the golden eggs
Did come to me to plead and beg
For amnesty because she said
If she did not, she’d loose her head!
The farmer back in Farmer Town
Found golden eggs upon the ground,
And knew a goose was to be found
And with his bloodhound, tracked her down.
And though the goose did plead and beg
The goose’s freedom was reneged
With ball and chain upon her leg;
So each day farmer fetched an egg!
But soon the farmer had a fit
And wanted more gold — every bit.
And to that end, her neck he’d split;
And reach down there for all of it.
The flaw in this, he did not see!
The goose, she knew, she had to flee!
And learned to pick her lock quickly
And did that very night break free.
But in no time, farmer and hound
Were on her tail at every bound
And at a corner veered around;
There all three nearly knocked me down!
I got the story in a blur
And was compelled to side with her
My only choice was to confer
A poundin’, sound upon Farmer.
And there you see, my friends that the
Moral here is, when too greedy
You’ll lose the goose and just may be
Pound to the ground quite thoroughly.
Copyright June 16, 1998, Mike Levin