Counting Sheep

The moon was full when I fell asleep

I dreamed that I was raising all the sheep

I used to count each night

When my mind puts up a fight.

The sheep were angered by my counting

Of all the leaping from nightly accounting

So they made me jump over beds

While combing out their dreads.

The moon was halved when they revolted

It didn’t take long before I bolted

Sheep are vicious when sleepy

I won't lie it was kinda creepy.

Perhaps sheep don’t like to count

Not to one or any amount

At least that's what I gather

As they bah’ed all they’d rather.

The moon was empty when I decided

I’d be better adding numbers undivided.

Now I dream of numerals large and small

But at least it saved me from that brawl.