Saturday, June 13, 2015

Poem a Day XIII

The Lap-Donkey

True talent is not formed by force;
sheer will is not the path of grace.
A foolish man will rush the course
and end up flat upon his face.
An ass saw a lapdog favored well;
he his master wished to please.
"What is the secret of its spell,
that He will stroke and pet and tease?
This pup does nothing save to sit
and sing with yips as easy-pie;
so I will do the same as it
and get my favor by and by."
And so the clumsy donkey fool
jumped on his master's lap with haste
and brayed and sprayed with donkey drool;
it was not to his master's taste.
So hear the moral, heed its point,
for we all try to be all things
and bend good sense all out of joint,
like a donkey in your lap who sings.

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