As dawn breaks across the land,

out skips a young farmhand.

With visions of heroism in his head,

his boyhood he hoped to shed.

 

 

He trotted to the open field,

in his hands, a sword and shield.

A vast landscape laid out before him,

from his lips, a hero’s hymn.

 

He whistled loud, he whistled clear,

a sharp sound that caught the ear

of an animal feasting on grass,

the lone, grumpy, stubborn ass.

 

He made his way up to his steed,

ready to follow The Knight’s Creed.

He examined the shag, ready to mount,

taking the size of the mammal into account.

 

He swung one leg up, then the other,

but an obstacle he’d soon discover,

for the donkey had no intention

of ceding his precious grazing session.

 

A to-be-hero dressed in scorn

upon his face a frown was worn.

Two kicks to its side and yet no movement,

the beast had decided to stay truant.

 

“Onward!”, the boy called, sword towards the horizon,

“I must ride forward so that I may wisen

my tactics for battle, victory, and grace,

and across the land, you and I will race.”

 

But the donkey had plans of a different sort,

he rose up on two legs and let out a snort.

Threw the fool from his back with one swift motion,

and set out for the grass alongside the ocean.

 

 

The boy laid there, head spinning wildly,

his face grew red from his actions done childly.

His pride embarrassment did replace,

for his efforts for honor had gone to waste.

 

So, a tale of failure one might assume,

contrary, the donkey’s might did bloom,

for in the end the one to proceed,

was none other than the oh-so faithful steed.