The Donkey
I saw a donkey
One day old
His head was too big
For his neck to hold;
His legs were shaky
And long and loose,
They rocked and staggered
And weren’t much use
He tried to gambol
And frisk a bit
But he wasn’t quite sure
Of the trick of it
His queer little coat
Was soft and grey,
And he curled his neck
In a lovely way.
He looked so little
And weak and slim
I prayed the world
Might be good to him.
Anon.