Tag Archives: #Sheep

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.

The Sheep Who Swear

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.

Ode to the Letter Ewe

Wish Ewe Were Here!

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.