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.
The sheep who swear
Sheep talk
when they walk
when they stand still
when upon the side of a hill
When in a field
and they yield
some colourful language.
“Baaaaaaaa!”
We have to bleep
the sheep
who keep
doing this
as it upsets the tourists.
We tried to clean their dirty mouths
and curb their cursing ways…
but, when we hired a sheep whisperer
he failed to stop their swearing
and he cost us a lot of pence
in a sense
we were fleeced.
Wish Ewe Were Here!
Ode to the Letter Ewe
I owe you, Ewe
For all the sheepish looks;
For being able to count on Ewe;
And for Ewe not pulling the wool over my eyes.
I should make this a Ewelogy to Ewe
And not lambast Ewe
As I ram wont to do.
But, I won’t mint sauce my words
I shall put my poetry helmutt on
And opine upon the ovine in Ewe!
So, I say to you, Ewe,
“Your words have helped me rhyme
Time upon time
Ewe have flocked to my aid
When I needed a sheep pen
To write with
And an inkwell to sheep dip
That pen into.
Ewe!
I owe Ewe.
Thank Ewe.
 | The Febrile Imaginin… on Silly Nonsense! |
 | Cubby on Silly Nonsense! |
| The Febrile Imaginin… on Silly Nonsense! |
| Cubby on Silly Nonsense! |
| The Febrile Imaginin… on Silly Nonsense! |
