Tales of a Lonely Zebra

Zachary Is His Name

Zachary

And this is his ballad

Zachary was a zebra, the cleanest in his herd

For a stallion in the bushveld, this really was absurd

His ablutions in the morning would take an hour or three

But Zachary was a dandy, as I’m sure you’ll all agree

He couldn’t lift a hoof until every stripe would gleam

And if he took a dust-bath, he’d swim to make them clean

All the other zebra rolled and ran and played

Their stripes were full of dust but no one was dismayed

Zachary’s-herd

Poor Zach would stand about, watching all the fun

While his childhood friends would play, ‘neath the warming sun

Zach heard their calls to join in but they faded in thin air

Then the herd would toss their manes and trot off in despair

Now Zelda was a filly, almost fully grown

And she thought it very dreadful that Zach was left alone

She cantered off to see him as he stood beside a tree

Hoping she could help him and maybe set him free

Mr and Mrs Zachary

They walked beside the river, avoiding any muck

Then went along the sandbanks as Zach enjoyed his luck

Zelda was so pretty, with her stripes all black and white

And they planned to meet tomorrow as they parted for the night

The two would graze together, snorting while they ate

And Zach forgot to worry if his mane was not quite straight

Winter ended, flowers came, and trees were turning green

When rains began to softly fall and wash the bushveld clean

Zachary mother and baby

What Zachary didn’t realize that first enchanted Spring

The dandy had been forgotten, to never rise again

Zelda had a foal before the summer’s heat

And Zachary was a Papa and his baby was so sweet

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