A silly poem for Daylight Saving Time.
One spring, a shepherd with a hundred sheep,
His body tired from duties of the day,
Spread out his cloak beneath the cloudless sky
And tried his best to sleep. Sleep would not come.
He gazed upon the quarter moon, so bright
Amid the starry host; sleep would not come
And so he rose, to seek the sleep he lost
Amid his shaggy host. He counted them
All, one by one, and then did so again,
And yet a third time. Still, sleep would not come.
He sought it many months, until at last,
As summer found the chilly rest of fall,
The sleep that had eluded him so long
Came back to him. Rejoicing, he returned
To celebrate his find with all his friends.
He called them all, and bid them join his feast;
But when they came, they found him sound asleep
And, being friends, did not disturb his rest…
But still, they ate him out of house and home.
Friends they might have been, but they weren’t stupid.