Billy Goats

In this village,
I have always seen,
Uncrowned Billy goats,
Without care,
Or tether.
Sniff as they browse,

Here and there,
Gnawing the grass to roots
They snigger and glee,
As they machete shrub and grass,
Standing on their way to the top;

Against goats' lapse of reason
Green villages complain,
In the ruthless overgraze,
For fear of a desert, gully erosion.
Especially in the rain season

Shrubs shudder silently,
In the belligerent sap-shed,
But, the Billy goats, bleating loudly,
Keep grazing on, defiantly dining
Their way to the top of the hill!

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