A Tangled Mess!

It stood there, in the clear. Not a soul was near, it showed no fear. As it wiggled its ear, the face made a sneer. There in his eye was a tear, almost a blear, yet no one knew how he got here, for he had no gear.

Confused, onlookers knew there was no pier nor weir anywhere near; from where did the deer appear? He was of good cheer, as though he'd had a beer, but it was clear as he made a jeer, he'd avoid any spear that came near. He sauntered along in low gear, his head swiveling as if it was a sphere, the ol' boy loved the pastures as they were on the frontier.

He could have been confuse...