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Showing posts with label sheep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sheep. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Lambaste














Sleep was not to be, my dearest companion at night
I played the game, toss-n-turn, my bed I did fight
Why would it evade, does not it hear my call
Am I always active, not in a dormant state at all

Waiting for its arrival ,praying please make haste
But seldom will it come,leaveing me to feel lambaste
I’m a would-be sleeper, always wishing that I could
Communication with me and sleep,sadly misunderstood

I lay on my pillow, counting cute little sheep, O’ my
Remembering the time, I use to get some shut eye
What I think I’ll do now, is pull out my dear ole gun
Start shooting those sheep, that's constantly on the run

Would not that be nice, a leg of lamb or lamb chops
Then the sheep would think twice,next time, better stop!
Dancing in the air, performing their lovely theatrical show
Was delicious tasty mutton,over and over my head they go

Although we could get along together, plenty of fine
If they would quit running, through my poor weary mind
Whosoever came up,with the idea of counting sheep
Must of lost more then enough, Good night sleep!!!

Patricia A Moore
March 28 2010

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Dreamland

Good Morning…Good Night… I sit wide awake
wondering when sleep will visit for my sake
Pondering the question running through me head
Why am I not in that bed..

Tossed and turned till I finally got up
Made a cup of coffee on which I sup
Hearing a sudden sound I turned an spin
There was Sir Colin with dimples and grin

Fair maid why didst thou not sleep
Hast thou forgotten to count the sheep
Or even raccoons in thy head
When thee lay upon thy bed

Mayst I ask the one of noble degree
How many ewes will it take me to see
Are raccoons running up yon pole
Before this answer I woudst know

I will that sugar plums were tossing in mine head
Then I woudst have sweet dreams in me stead
Shall I count backwards from hundred to 0
Then off to dreamland I shoudst go


Last night I didst fine
I went to sleep at the count of nine
Fair maid Patty thou shouldst not weep
I fell over for I talked myself to sleep
I hast come to say some words in thy ear
And dreamland for thee will soon then appear



O let it be of a kings decree
How this Irish poet didst help me
Let it be heard throughout the land
The name of the Bard is Colin Stephen..
THE END
Patricia A Moore &Colin S Moffett
August 2009