The mountain kings

In the cradle of nature, where wild winds blow,
On rocky cliffs, where grasses grow,
There dwell the kings, in sun’s warm glow,
The humble goats, in majesty they show.

Coats of wool, eyes aglow with fire,
Scaling peaks, higher and higher,
In their hearts, an untamed desire,
A love for goats, in us inspire.

Their bleats echo in the morning’s hush,
As they graze in fields of heather and brush,
In their simple lives, no need to rush,
The ballad of goats, in the countryside’s blush.

Fearless climbers, on precipice they tread,
Where eagles dare, they make their bed,
In their courage, a lesson is spread,
A love for goats, in our hearts is fed.

From the playful kids to the sturdy billy,
Each goat’s life is a story willy-nilly,
To love them is to appreciate life’s frilly,
In the ballad of goats, we find joy really.

As the sun dips below the mountain’s crown,
The goats retreat to their peaceful town,
Yet in their absence, there’s no frown,
For in our hearts, their love is sown.

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