Now a poem by Steve O'Kane for Trevor... sheep related.

There once was a rather large Leopard,
who said to a very small shepherd;
"I'm partial to Spam,
but I'd rather have Lamb,
not to play with...
but salted and peppered".

The shepherd said "don't be too hasty;
I know that my Lamb's rather tasty,
but it's mostly all fat;
(that's not good for a cat,)
think of what it might do to your waisty"

The leopard, (whose first name was Trevor)
said "Don't you start tryin' to be clever,
I can eat all I wish;
put it there on my dish,
and I'll still be as light as a fevver!"

Well, the Leopard he carried on eating,
(despite the accompanying bleating!)
at the Roadkill Cafe
he was munching all day;
(a belch was his favourite greeting)

He'd roll up a fag with some 'baccy,
it might have been normal... or whacky,
but it all made his blood,
somewhat sticky...(like mud)
.....(...and it's hard to pump blood when it's tacky.)

So one day his heart said "I'm tired.
this isn't the reason I'm hired!"
I don't mind a job
but it's making me sob..
I could rest if the bugger expired!"

So by way of a delicate warning,
the heart had a rest-break next morning;
when the Leopard came to,
he was there in the zoo
in the birthday suit spots he was born in!

The vets say he ought to get better,
but he must heed their words to the letter,
so to help him to sleep, he no longer counts sheep!

but he cheats,
and counts cheeses like Feta!

Tune anyone?