Goats.
Fresh Goats served on the meadow,
Good food I pass,
The predator in me finding mercy
As I had a Sandwich earlier
So I'm not hungry anymore.
Goats.
Still a little frightened to meet me,
They tend to flee,
I tend to think of shooting them.
Session on;
They get in somehow
Then pass
Gently taking a mouthful of grass,
Deciding to elegantly prove their skills
Of running, climbing up the rocky mountains...
Goats.