Tick Tick Tick Tick Flea

Tick, tick, tick tick flea Said the sheep as she did her ablution These pesky things get everywhere Is there really no final solution With just one haircut in the spring Followed close, by our annual wash We’re girls you know, it’s not the thing How on earth can we ever be posh If only we were human, we Could bathe when we wanted, what bliss We’d have bath time, spring, summer and autumn But in winter we’d give it a miss © John W Fenn 18-09-2009