In fields of green where sheep do roam,
They wander freely, fluffy as foam.
With woolly coats and eyes so wide,
They graze and gambol side by side.
But oh, the tales these sheep could tell,
Of nights spent plotting mischief well.
For when the moon hangs bright and high,
They shed their innocence with a sly.
They sneak into the farmer's shed,
And steal his boots for their own tread.
With cloven hooves in rubber clad,
They tiptoe 'round, oh what a fad!
They dye themselves with berry stains,
And march around in rainbow chains.
The shepherd wakes with quite a start,
To find his flock playing the part.
But dawn breaks soon, the prank's unveiled,
The sheep return, their laughter curtailed.
With innocent looks and bleats so mild,
They claim they've just been woolly, beguiled.
So if you spy a sheepish grin,
Remember, it's the prankster within.
For though they seem so meek and mild,
Sheep are the jesters of the wild!
