The joys of lambing shared through poetry

26th February 2021

The below poem has been shared with NSA this week. Written by Neil Andrew, the poem explores the joys of lambing found even in surprising places. 

The Joys of Lambing.

You ask if I'm ready for lambing?

Oh yes, I've prepared the whole of the farm,

Spent a fortune on things like small rubber rings,

And those gloves that come right up your arm.

Lambing sheds disinfected, all the pens are erected,

There's lots of clean straw on the floor,

And to keep things going well,

There's more lubricant gel, Than you'll find in an Anne Summers store.


What's that you asked, will the vet call?

Oh no, I've got every vet aid I require,

Expectations are high not one lamb will die,

And no students this year have been hired.

There's iodine for joint ill, and all germs it will kill,

And calcium for the ewes with ketosis,

There's needles and thread, for when they push out their bed,

And drugs for coccidiosis.


You asked if I've had any mixups?

Just a few, but I cannot be there all the time,

There's been a few muddles, with singles triplets and doubles,

But my fostering on's been sublime.

Now that old speckled ewe,

I'm sure she had two,

But she seems to have acquired yet another,

Perhaps she likes sharing, But I'm really past caring,

As long as they all have a mother.


What's that you ask, have I lost some?

Maybe, we've had our mishaps on the way,

Like skin over the nose, One got eaten by crows,

One got crushed when I threw in some hay.

And that Suffolk ewe there, She laid down on her pair,

One choked on wrap that's always a danger,

And one poor little sod got crushed by the quad,

When I drove too damn close to the manger.


Finally you asked if I'm tired?

You could say, can't remember when I last slept an hour,

I dozed off on a bale, got woken by hail,

And I smell like I need a good shower.

When morale is getting low, there's gin flavoured by sloe,

If only this wind would stop blowing.

All the ewes scanned to have one, should be out in the sun,

And they will be when it stops bloody snowing.