I saw a donkey
    One day old,
His head was too big
    For his neck to hold;
His legs were shaky
    And long and loose,
They rocked and staggered
    And weren’t much use.
He tried to gambol
    And frisk a bit,
But he wasn’t quite sure
    Of the trick of it.
His queer little coat
    Was soft and grey,
And curled at his neck
    In a lovely way.
His face was wistful
    And left no doubt
That he felt life needed
    Some thinking about.
So he blundered round
    In venturesome quest,
And then lay flat
    On the ground to rest.
He looked so little
    And weak and slim,
I prayed the world
    Might be good to him.

Anonymous