I dreamt

I dreamt I was a zebra
My intellect intact.
I lived and grazed and frolicked
In manner circumspect.

My peace was rudely shattered.
I met a vicious dog,
A greyhound, and in colour
As grey as smoky fog.


He stared, and his saliva
Ran at a frantic rate.
He barked: “Well, well! I reckon
You got a problem, mate!


Your fur is undecided
What colour it should be.
That must be worse than guessing
Am I a he or she?”


I didn’t deign to answer,
But raised a weary foot
And clouted him! He bellowed
And ran away for good.


I might have deigned to answer
That black and white can mix
And live in peace together …
The alarm went off at six!