Sheep on the field

Just your average bicycle ride,

See some sheep, very woolly, two-eyed.

Come to a halt for a nice, quick pause

Observe the sheep and their chewing jaws.

That one over there is just ruminating

Chewing with the intent of swallow-for-sating.

The small one is rolling around in the grass,

Fluffy and white, its cuteness first-class.

And that one there is… in a white lab coat?

Holding a wrench and making a note?

That thing that it’s building, hold on…

Is that a rocket made of wood and nylon?

Defense against wolves and political aggression?

That raises one, and just one question:

How does one use a wrench with hooves?

One of the most complex of fine-motor moves.


Planet of the apes

If we were on the planet of the apes,

The science monkeys wearing white capes,

Would want to go to moon due to its bright hue,

Banana planetoid would have its Ape Aldrin too.

If we were on the planet of the snakes,

I’d want to get off no matter what it takes,

Like the Chinese astronaut some time ago,

Do like Wan Hu and leave with a bangy explo’.

If we were on the planet of giraffes,

You could draw some serious graphs,

On how the orthopedist sectors differ,

And how the ergonomy laws over there are stiffer.

If we were on the planet of the squirrels,

You’d work hard on the cuteness referrals,

Trying to solve who of the eleven billion,

Looked most pretty and least reptilian.

Spiders’ eyes

Googling can be fun.

Have you ever looked at the eyes of a spider?

Not a real one, Google search as your glider.

Four, six, eight, they can have lots.

Big and shiny, not just tiny, mean dots.

Some spider eyes have an inborn smile.

It seems silly and not like their style.

Spiders might not but their eyes make me smirk.

Even though my scream is pure knee jerk.

I find it funny that despite my phobia,

I can stare at their eyes without a “nope-nope-nopey-aaah!”

That’s their one, very friendly trait.

Those pretty eyes, I just can’t hate.

Fearing and hating spiders or snakes,

Or whatever else, no matter what the stakes.

Stare at the eyes and it might be,

You’ll forget to fear, just like me.

(At least until you remember their legs,

Those hairy little sticks covered in dregs.)