Tag Archives: #Sheep

Sheep

I was counting on the sheep

to get me to sleep;

but, they bleated about

like a rain shower in a drought;

and then the roof leaked.

.

To say my curiosity was piqued

was to speak about me

and my inquisitive self;

and it’s best not to do that;

leave nosing on the shelf

and pretend not to see.

.

Whether I am or not

is a moot point –

as some moot pointed out to me

the other day,

or maybe a century ago –

it was one or the other,

I uncertainly certainly do not know.

Upon the theme of ‘Shop, Shoop, Sheep, and Sheeps’

It is time for change.

One sheep, should (IMHO), be called a ‘Shoop’ and a baby ‘Shoop’ should be called a ‘Shop’.

I know that, to save confusion, we would then probably have to rename the old ‘sell-stuff, buy stuff’ “shop” places to something else – perhaps they could be called ‘Buy-Places’ – and then we would be sorted out for the duration.

Sheep could relate to sheep numbering 2 to 20, and ‘Sheeps to 21 Sheep and above (‘To Ovinity, and beyond!’ you might say).

White fluffy clouds in a clear green sky

White fluffy clouds in a clear green sky

Nibbling the grass as I walked by.

Electronic Sheep

Electronic Sheep

The electronic sheep went ‘Bleeeeeep!’

-which didn’t help me get to sleep.

Sheep

Sheep

I wandered lonely

as a sheep,

thinking many sheepish thoughts,

though none were deep;

I wondered for a while upon

where the other sheep had gone.

Whilst munching grass

and chewing cud,

across the fields

like a cloud

I’d scud.

I am the ghost in the machine

I am the ghost in the machine

I am the ghost in the machine,

the elephant in the room,

the fly in the ointment,

the wolf in sheep’s clothing;

and I have a loathing

for what I am.

I am the ghost in the room,

the elephant in the machine,

the wolf in the ointment,

and the fly in sheep’s clothing;

and I have a loathing

of what I have become.

I am the wolf in the room,

the fly in the machine,

the elephant in the ointment,

the ghost in sheep’s clothing;

and I have a loathing for this type of poem,

where the combinations grow

with every word

ever more and more absurd –

I am the septic in the poem,

or should that be sceptic?

Anyway, as I was saying,

I am the poet

in the septic,

tank.

No, that’s not right…

I am the poet in the room,

sheepishly wearing wolf’s clothing,

flying in the ghost machine,

whilst coated in ointment…

allegedly.

Dreaming of Sheep

Dreaming of Sheep

Ship to shore can you hear me?

Is there anybody out there quite near me?

I’ve come round to thinking,

that my craft is thinking;

and even though the water’s only three foot deep,

I know I’ll wake up when I go to sleep.

I know I will wake up when I go to sleep

It’s no use my even counting hundreds of sheep,

they just stand on the hillside there, in a flock

and then they all run about, they run amock.

Thoughts and images confuse my mind,

I’m looking for an answer,

a question I find;

I seem to be the blind man not leading the blind,

how on Earth do I get to unwind.

I’m like a coiled spring,

a wound up thing

that wound up here

on the first day of Spring,

or that sort of thing.

I’m the man in the corner,

a little Jack Horner

for the twenty-first century,

and I don’t want to be me.

I know I will wake up when I go to sleep

It’s no use my even counting hundreds of sheep,

they just stand on the hillside there, in a flock

and then they all run about, they run amock.

Trees, Sheep, and the Sky.

Trees, Sheep, and the Sky.

See here for the photograph that inspired the words – G:)

It’s about the trees,

or the sheep,

or the sky.

Swaying in the breeze;

chewing the Winter feed;

or hanging ominously above us –

you know which is to which.

All together

in one picture

they sit side by side,

juxtapositioned

by Nature.

In So Mnia

In So Mnia

I’ve tried counting sheep;

but, I ran out of fingers –

too many sheep;

not enough fingers;

I tried counting fish..,

fingers!

I tried using my toes,

still not enough.

So I am sticking to counting

unicorns and dragons –

I’ve limbs enough for those.

Wise Words?

Wise Words?

I was driving along

in my auto-mobile

when I did see

sheep on a hill.

And when I come back

in my auto-mobile,

having been to town,

if they haven’t gone

they will be there still.