Dyed In the Wool
There’s nowt so canny and nowt so deep
As the musings of the highland sheep
They’ll talk of this and talk of that
Of what they ate and where they shat
Or ponder on life’s mysteries
Like, is the grass beneath the trees
Much finer than the one that grows
Down beside the old hedgerows
© John W Fenn 18-09-2009
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