Knud Sinding, Danish
Little Bo Peep Has Lost Her Sheep. Meanwhile, Her Brother Has Misplaced His Sunglasses, Date Unknown
Oil on canvas
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/// Chide The Shepherd with only one sheep.
The rest left while the boy was asleep.
Shades his eyes from the sun
for some signs where they’ve run.
Needs to find them soon. Stepped in it. Deep.
/// The boy’s uncle, the farmer, referred
to some wolves which were stalking his herd.
His young nephew was told,
“Keep them safe and controlled;
make sure nothing that’s harmful occurred.”
/// He had taken a very quick nap.
Fifty sheep disappeared in a snap.
Now he feels like a sap
in a tightening trap.
Must recover them or take the rap.
/// He has one final hope up his sleeve,
and it’s Daisy, the one not to leave.
If she knows how to track,
he might get them all back,
and he desperately wants to believe.
/// When he’d gathered each lamb, ram and ewe,
which collective term for them will do?
He was asked, “Herd of sheep?”
and his answer was deep:
“I, of course, heard of sheep, haven’t you?”
/// This incompetent shepherd some mock
says he’s often heard sheep herders talk.
Whether gathered in groups,
or in crowds or in troops,
he thought creatures need feathers to flock.
/// If you’re planning to service a ewe
it is better where no one can view.
Standing out in that field,
what you do is revealed.
With the flock gone it’s only you two.