The Hyppogriff

A poem by Oliver Herford

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.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Hyppogriff' by Oliver Herford

comments powered by Disqus