The Black Sheep
Baa, baa, baa,
The black sheep cried,
He’d lost his mum,
On whom he relied.
He’d wandered off,
Then looked around,
And nowhere could,
His mother be found!
He baaed to the flock,
Where can she be?
No answer came back,
It was a mystery.
He galloped around,
Bleating loud and clear,
When suddenly,
She did appear.
Where have you been?
He asked, distressed,
To which she answered,
I’ve been undressed.
My coat’s been shorn,
Can you not see?
I feel much cooler,
And of the weight I’m free!
I enjoyed the humour in this poem very much, Toni. As somebody who cannot understand all the fuss about Baa Baa Black Sheep, I found there was not a hint of anything untoward in this poem about a black sheep. I don’t mean to become sidetracked, so I will simply reiterate that I enjoyed your use of humour in this poem.
Thank you Marque for your lovely comments. I am glad you enjoyed the humour. Cheers, Toni