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Counting Sheep
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 'milling around
Backwards and forwards
All over the ground.
To make matters worse
What on earth can I do
When this big randy ram
Keeps mounting a ewe.
There's no sense of shame
Not a sign of shock
As they're doing all this
I'm front of the flock
Who just keep on milling
And munching the grass
And tooing and froing
In a big woolly mass.
It's being watched by the cow
With the big crumply horn
Who seems to be enjoying
This display of soft porn.
And I sigh with despair
As this ruminant steed
Keeps ravishing more ewes
And spreading his seed
It's two in the morning
And I'm still wide-awake
Counting sheep is no good
For heavens blooming sake
And to my despair
As insomnia get worse
I ve switched on an iPad to write
This bit of dodgy verse.
And while I wasn't watching
Littkrb Bo Peep and Little Boy Blue
Have crept under the haycock
And they're at it too.
If only it was possible
To just quickly reach out
To fetch that randy pair
A good solid clout
And that bloody idiot who said
It would help me to sleep
If i closed my eyes and counted
Some Imaginary sheep
Copyright ©
Terry Ireland
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