John Fenn Poet I do not know?

Mary Had a Little Lamb

Mary had a little lamb
She roasted it with mint
She didn’t want to do it 
But sadly she was skint
The shepherdessing job she had
Had been outsourced it seems
A shepherding consortium
Had shattered Mary’s’ dreams
The company contracted
To administer the flock
Were highly recommended
As solid as a rock
So Mary’s job had gone for good
It didn’t make much sense
One little lamb one jar of jam
Her only recompense
Insomnia, a side effect
Now kept her from her sleep
She tried all kinds of remedies
Except for counting sheep
So, taking to the bottle
Her body old and tired
Off into oblivion
She finally expired

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Keith Bickerstaffe October 8, 2009 at 11:12 AM Extremely well done, my friend and fellow Brit! excellent rhyming and flow... a cautionary tale indeed! Best wishes, Keith

Donna Golden October 7, 2009 at 11:11 PM This is a frightening, sad, extraordinary piece, John! You never cease to impress me with your work. Blessings, Donna