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The Stoat and the Old Goat
This tale concerns a little stoat,
With eyes of black and velvet coat,
Who frolicked in the virgin snow,
Above the village down below.
This little chap, so short and lean,
He liked to keep his burrow clean,
Whilst watching with his beady eyes,
For buzzards circling in the sky.
Now ‘twas a fine and sunny day,
When stoats they like to sport and play,
And to the broomy hillside came,
A grizzly goat with shaggy mane.
This goat he had a stubby beard,
Which stretched across from ear to ear,
With slitty eyes and sallow stare,
He watched the Stoat cavorting there.
As clever as a goat can be,
His hobby was photography,
He pulled a camera from his coat,
To take a picture of the Stoat.
But little stoats, we rarely spy,
Are known for being camera shy.
So to his hole the Stoat did run,
And waited till the Goat was gone.
But goats are patient so they say,
And this one was resigned to stay.
He picked a cool and grassy spot,
His camera poised to take the shot.
And so the Summer fluttered by
As skylarks twittered in the sky.
The Stoat avoiding making noise,
The Goat above with finger poised.
As Winter came upon the hill,
It brought a cold and frosty chill.
The Stoat was getting in the mood,
For going out in search of food.
He poked his head above his lair,
To see the Goat still sitting there,
As past his hooves he tried to creep,
The Goat appeared to be asleep.
But goats are very, very sly;
He opened up his slitty eye.
“My wait up here has been worthwhile.
I have you now my friend,” he smiled.
“Oh Stoat, oh Stoat, oh little Stoat,
I know that to my friends I’ll gloat,
When I display your photograph,
Which surely now will make them laugh”
But as he pressed the shutter down,
Upon his face there came a frown.
“Oh, damn and blast” the Goat complained,
“My camera power has been drained.”
And so, he had to scurry down,
And headed for the nearest town,
A mile or so beyond the trees,
To purchase extra batteries.
Which left the happy little Stoat,
With eyes of jet and ermine throat,
To frolic in the virgin snow,
Above the village down below.
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Jeff Eardley lives in the heart of England near to the Peak District National Park and is a local musician playing guitar, mandolin and piano steeped in the music of America, including the likes of Ry Cooder, Paul Simon, and particularly Hank Williams.
That is a clever and imaginative tale that not only children, but also adults can admire and appreciate. I know I did.
Thanks Roy for your kind response which is much appreciated. Best wishes to you and yours.
As a sometime writer of children’s poetry, I can appreciate how good this poem is and how difficult it is to pitch the vocabulary at the right level, Jeff.
Thanks for the read.
Thanks for the comment Paul. I always like to think that kids have their own wavelength that can often surprise we oldies. Best regards.
I just read this aloud to myself. What a delicious poem! I loved the easy flow and humorous story you told with perfect meter and rhyme.
Also, having raised goats, I can attest to their tenacity for getting what they want. I felt triumphant that the goat was foiled. Mine rarely were.
Thank you.
Gigi
Thanks Gigi. To stare into the eyes of a goat is a trip into pre-history. They are the most intelligent of creatures who will be here long after we have all gone. Thank you for your kind words today.
This was fun to read Jeff and will bring joy to many children. I could see it as a children’s picture book.
Thanks Norma. You are a star on SCP and any comment from you is priceless. Thank you.
Jeff, this is an absolutely delightful story for children (and grown-ups)! It flows smoothly in plot, rhyme and rhythm. That technology could be the instigator of conflict between goat and stoat with a climax involving a technological glitch is particularly amusing. That makes this a distinctly modern fairytale. Your work is great fun indeed!
Thanks Brian. Your comment is much appreciated. I will pass your words on to the old goat the next time I see him. Cheers.
The poem is adorable, as well as the photo of the stoat. I agree with Norma. It would make for a charming children’s book.
Thanks Cheryl. You are right about the excellent photo. Evan never fails in connecting images to poetry. Best wishes to you.
What a delicious little poem about an adorable stoat! Good work !
Oh, thank you Sally. You are very kind. Thank you.
Inconsequential amusement, Jeff, is just what we need. I am glad you wrote not a word pertaining to voats. See how an entire year can pass for stoat and goat as they think only of frolic and hobby! Your words are admirably clear, with enough varied repetition to make them songlike, and plenty of potential for dramatic performance by the singer.
Thank you Margaret. I have just read about Voat. It doesn’t seem the sort of organisation that belongs on these pages. Your comment on my little rhyme is much appreciated. The “Old Goat” is actually a 70+ year old pal of mine.
Had a good laugh at that – thanks Jeff !