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