Biologists are prone to sniff
At hybrids like the Hyppogriff.
In evolution's plan, they say,
There is no place for such as they.
A horse with wings could not have more
Than two legs, and this beast had four.
Well, I for one am glad to waive
Two of his legs, his wings to save.
I'd even sell my auto--if
I had one--for a Hyppogriff.
The Hyppogriff
Oliver Herford
(1)
Poem topics: horse, beast, place, glad, evolution, plan, save, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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