Poems and Songs

A Wife's Lament

Baa, baa, black-faced sheep, island mist and heather,

Myriads of midges and the lousiest of weather.

But Daddy wants to photograph a birdie on its nest

And tells me that I will enjoy the quiet and the rest.

Baa, baa, black-faced sheep, we’ve been through this before,

The car is parked with gadget bags and cameras galore,

There’s seems as big as cannon, and miles of Kodachrome.

It looks as if we’ll need to leave the baby back at home.

Baa, baa, black-faced sheep, isn’t it a hoot,

There’s no room for my slippers, but we’ve got his hob-nail boots;

We’ve anoraks and waterproofs for every kind of weather,

But lipsticks and cosmetics are missing altogether.

Baa, baa, black-faced sheep, this year, Dad’s made a hide,

It’s tatty at the edges, but it’s twenty-six feet wide,

And when the kids go near it he wears a worried frown

For they sing “A Ring o’ Roses” and it ALL FALLS DOWN.

Baa, baa, black-faced sheep, it really is absurd,

A grown-up man a-photographing little baby birds;

And when the films are processed he’ll gloat over them for weeks,

And boost his ego showing them to Natural History freaks.

“Wandered Minstrel”


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