The poorest farmer of them all,
His land had little use.
He couldn’t sow or graze; instead
He bred a single goose.
The goose would not lay golden eggs,
It barely laid at all,
Once a week, perhaps, he’d find
A goose egg in the stall.
At least it was an income,
A few pence every week.
Without the goose, he told himself,
The future would be bleak.
One day he threw away a fag –
A raging fire broke loose.
It burnt his little coop down and
That really cooked his goose.
His land had little use.
He couldn’t sow or graze; instead
He bred a single goose.
The goose would not lay golden eggs,
It barely laid at all,
Once a week, perhaps, he’d find
A goose egg in the stall.
At least it was an income,
A few pence every week.
Without the goose, he told himself,
The future would be bleak.
One day he threw away a fag –
A raging fire broke loose.
It burnt his little coop down and
That really cooked his goose.
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