Conrad

Babyish Conrad, who wants every
glittering thing straightaway — just like that!
The goose girl's hair, for instance, which she let
fall down so it shone like a water-meadow
under a golden sky. He only asked for
one strand to keep under his pillow
then hold taut by candlelight so that
silver needles slid along it. But no!
She made the wind pluck off his cap — and while
he chased it, braided her hair out of sight.
Cross, truculent Conrad! He'll run and tell
the king — oh yes, go straight to the top —
about how she sat in the blazing meadow
among buttercups and daffodilies —
releasing like a flood, then hiding away
that glistening gold. And he'll tell about
her talking with the horse's head, too,
(she's certainly crazy!) — he'll fix her!
Little Conrad, bossing his bossy geese
each day: he's a piece of the puzzle, a link
in the chain. He lets fly with his angry words —
all he wanted was a single gold strand.