Little boy blue,
Come blow your horn,
Tell us how wonderfully
Everything's gone.
There's sheep in the meadow,
There's cows in the corn.
Our death toll's the highest
The problem's not gone.
There's chlorine in chickens
There's hormones in beef
But where is the boy
Who looks after the sheep?
Where is the man
Who will make Britain 'Great'
He's under a haystack
fast asleep.
YOU ARE READING
Rhymes for Our Times
PoetryNursery Rhymes rewritten for our Covid times. Mostly light hearted but often satirical or with a point to make. Some of these were originally posted in Third Verse but by 'popular demand' are getting a volume to themselves.
