Best Ewes Poems

There was a land, and on this land lived sheep.
Like all good sheep, they had their rules to keep.
They lived on farms in their own...

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Deer poet tree righters fore the cite 

Pleas will ewe bee sweet 
and worn me if ewe have scene any miss stakes eye have maid
butt...

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The flames of the furnace (well-travelled by wind
slowly glazing the rags of gray women chagrined
at the sight of a hair fleeing tresses now thinned) 
sometimes...

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When eye was eating my serial this mourning
Aye red the hole rules four the contest
Eye sore it inn black and white
It was plane for all...

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It's  one in the morning
And I can't get to sleep
So I've tried various things
Like counting some sheep,
But they just won't stay still 
They keep...

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Thunderous silence in fresh mountain air
Dragonflies land on a mirrored flat lake. 
A trout breaks the surface with but a swirl
Hushed morning stopping to rolling...

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Venus shown bright 
in the morning sky
and the moon hung large
o'er a suddenly frozen land.
The morning sky the blue
of Easter eggs or mosques,
tinged with orange...

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It was not a dark and stormy night
The night was not sultry nor moist
The sky's color didn't please the knight.

The Knight was a gentleman since...

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Near Lake Fane the sheep graze in thy green meadow.
At ease, ewes are seen nibbling field blades most fine,
where fierce lion's shape may cast no...

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While Shepherds watched their flocks by night all seated on the ground
The ewes collected up their lambs and gathered them around
"Listen now," the old Ewe...

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The rain had passed leaving fields of mud,
Mud to work with, to rest and to play.
Mud in our shoes, in our pants, in our hair,
Mud...

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There once was a foxy young poet,
With a lawn and no one to mow it.
So she rustled some ewes,
And then ate them in twos -
And...

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Care free driving down the lain, 
sites of yesteryear refrain, 
Children playing inn there yards, 
Tattered houses somewhat scarred. 
  
Traveling inn gay apparel,...

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Sleep is such a precious thing
Now I lay my head,
Close my mind from worrying,
Count some sheep instead

I drift off into my dream...
Hubby starts to snore...

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The morning has started with a trace of a dew
An ascent through the tussock ignites the new day
Trailing huntaways eager to work on the ewes
Awaited...

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