Oggwool Fleece

In England’s pleasant pastures amid the free wild flowers Lie pagan ways the wise ones do not mock And one adept at harnessing these ancient rural powers Was Oggwool Fleece, the black sheep of the flock Oggwool was old, much older than the old oak it was said Beneath whose boughs the dark sheep’s plans are sealed ‘Twas said the sheep had come back from the other side of dead With the darkness in that corner of the field. The farm hands better knew to venture in the oak’s strange shade Or to the long grass that the darkness gripped Where Oggwool lurked amid the spells and potions he had made A sheep unshorn and magically undipped. Not limited by four hooves in working his deft skill Unhindered in ambitious sheepish plans Harnessing the dark elves to do his dark sheep will Dexterously with little dark elf hands. From that darkened corner of that English country field His influence extends itself outside His arcane woolly web through which his mystic powers wield Reaching parts and persons spread worldwide He has extensive vineyards in Italy and Spain, He has mining operations in Peru He owns a flock of ostriches down in the Ukraine (Although he never quite intended to) He’s engineering world events on scales beyond the ken He has his hooves in business of all kinds He interferes remorselessly in world affairs of men With night-time thoughts drip-fed to human minds Little green men fly through space in saucers flat and round On interstellar missions without cease But on their furthest journey yet, their enterprise is bound To the ever growing plans of Oggwool Fleece The politicians spin their words and armies shoulder arms And yet do not beyond their small acts see But Oggwool Fleece with thistle skills and other sheepwise charms Is planning how to rule a galaxy!