Twilight Lawns plc

Celebrating Animal Lovers' Day


 Ovis Aries, I Love You

A poem,

Dedicated to Betty


Tom Mould


I want a sheep, a ewe or ram;

A woolly thing, perhaps a lamb;

A cuddly thing to take to bed;

I’ll have no other beast instead.


No equine quadruped… no horse;

No donkey, mule or ass, of course.

Nor ermine, weasel, mink or stoat.

But maybe I’d accept a goat…


Or would a goat be just too silly?

A Nanny or perhaps a Billy?

On second thoughts, as I have said:

I would prefer a sheep instead.


I must admit that at this stage,

I’m not particular to age.

I’m not averse, don’t give a damn;

Give me mutton dressed up as lamb.


A pretty one, is that too much?

Perhaps with just the common touch;

I don’t require one that’s too classy,

But neither one that could be brassy,


As sheep, I found, some years ago,

Are rather intellectually slow,

But have a trait that can beguile;

A coquettish and a winning smile.


The first sheep that I ever met

Was at a time I can’t forget

An outing that our school had had

When I was just a little lad.


The outing to a local farm

Gave promise of bucolic charm,

With little animals to pet;

My memory of it lingers yet.


For bunnies there, were ours to stroke,

And chicks to see and pigs to poke

And goats and Guernsey cows to milk

And other farm beasts of that ilk.


And all the children had their way

And poked and stroked and laughed in play

When suddenly I saw a sight

My infant soul filled with delight.


For coming down a path I saw

Angelic Animalia, no less, no more

Sweet Vertebrate with noble stance

 I realised, Artiodactyla, at a glance;


The Family Bovidae, my soul did leap;

There stood before me, Domestic Sheep.

And at that point, obsession began,

And continues still, now I’m a man.


Ovis Aries are good and true;

Their hearts are pure… their minds are too.

For sheep are honest, and despise

Those who pull wool o’er your eyes.


O! Ovis Aries, you noble beast

Dear Ovis Aries, let my soul feast

On your virtue, beauty, ways that enchant,

Dear Quadrupedal Ruminant.


The above is an advertisement for Dulcie cards.  

All names & addresses are purely fictional; any similarities between persons, living or dead are coincidental & the product of a deranged mind.