Legacy, how we love you

In a small barn in Gagetown near the creek so deep

Lived eight little goats and four little sheep
The smallest one was Legacy

While it was true that she was wee
She had an awesome pedigree
Caprine aristocracy


The softest cashmere was probably hers
But this little goat was covered in burrs
For though she was a princess goat
She never cared much for her coat
And given half a chance would rather
Hang out where the sheep would gather
In amongst the apple trees
And burdocks, coincidally.

So now that it is harvest time
For cashmere she is shocked to find
Her combing is a tiresome grind

There is a tiny compensation
And that is how her daily ration
Has increased in straight proportion
To the time spent in the stanchion.