A goose goes slowly on the path

“Nothing like an evil stash”

It thinks, so it waddles to the puddle

On the ground, hoping to find a bubble

Of dry food or gold, but alas there was none.

The goose waddled onwards, not the one to stop until it was done,

Waddling waddling waddling until it came upon a town

That it was so deep in the woods that up was down.

The unbothered goose walked to the shop

And strode to the counter, “can i have a glass of pop?”

It asked. The shopkeep, who was very tired

Asked the goose if it would like to be hired. 

The goose check its calendar, empty, and said yes to a job

Thus is the story of the goose who had its own business, which is a little odd.

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