When Sheep Collide

'Tis strange where we should get the notion That poetry expressed in motion Should within the human form reside. When nature gives us many chances Unpractised and ephemeral dances Like in a muddy field when sheep collide Truth is, that nature's not so humble And doesn't mind the dancer's stumble There's nothing that it ever seeks to hide Uncaring it leaves all revealed And is not shamed if one small field Has crazy sheep and one long muddy slide They're mad, they're bad, they're having fun Those naughty sheep and every one Is doing what convention has denied The hillside's muddy, wet and slick With crazy sheepies sliding quick Down to the bottom, down where sheep collide. Many count good nature's fare The birdsong and the country air Among the wonders of the countryside But strange delight can yet be found In woolly bodies sliding round A simple muddy field where sheep collide. While nature guides celestial spheres In cosmic dances, it appears, With majesty the earthborn are denied Down far beneath in mud and grass A sheep slides on its woolly a***: A sense of fun, though not a sense of pride.