Forswear the road less travelled.

God bless ewes and rams,

Whose chosen cloven pathways beckon

Chocked full of empty chain store comforts.

No pioneers they, they pull the wool

Over the crossed eyes and dotted T’s

Of rigid non-conformity.


Eschew the cud of conflict.

With sheepish grin and bleating heart

Go with the ebb and the flowchart.

Graze in the peaceful pasture

Of mildly mindful half-existence

Trusting alike in shepherds and crooks,

Stalking the flock and mocking the clock.