Anthony Brady's Goats

Were i born a wordsmith story teller or poet
Skilled with words and one worthy of literary note
Of Anthony Brady's goats i surely would write
A story to read or a poem to recite

Across from the old Koroit railway station in a small fenced paddock they spend their time
A brown and white and a white goat perhaps past their lives prime
Both with round galvanize shelters as protection from too much exposure to sun, wind and rain
In their shelters looking out on their surroundings sometimes for hours they remain

Tethered with long chains to ground stakes to confine them to territory
Perhaps they would climb over the paddock fences if they were allowed to roam free
Yet they are content and have enough to eat
And when tired they do rest in their sheltery retreat

If you are walking or driving by Koroit's old railaway station Anhony Brady's goats you will see
Content looking enough confined in their territory
I often see them when i am driving that way
Seemingly content in their paddock though there they must stay.