Whew, Made It!

There was an old man from Delaware
Who wanted to show we could still care.
    He got the most votes,
    Despite discord notes,
And now we hope he can get us there.

The Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

You have likely not heard of Clem,
That ovine master of disguise.
The sheep disliked wolves eating them,
But Clem thought how to neutralize.

“They are bigger, that is a plus,
But the flock is more in sheer mass.
They have sharp teeth to munch on us,”
Clem reasoned as he chewed on grass.

“We are meek and they are so mean,
Even fighting with each other.
Wishing as alpha to be seen,
Each trying to best his brother.

“We need to have the top dog here,
As the champion for our side.
The meanest brute to stir their fear
And make them tuck tails, run, and hide.”

And so, Clem swung into action
To organize what they would need.
Six more sheep made up his faction
To practice his deceptive deed.

They fluffed their wool and tucked their necks,
And posed in gymnastic formation.
In four legs and torso they flexed
With Clem, the head, at his station.

Clem tilted his head and howled so loud
The other sheep quaked beneath him.
But they stood fast when next he growled
In a voice frightening and grim.

The wolves came to see who it was
And they could not believe their eyes.
The terrifying sight gave pause,
To see a wolf three times their size.

“This meat is mine, so go away
If you know what is good for you.”
The wolf pack, so filled with dismay,
Cowered off, ever out of view.

So, remember Clem when besieged
With threats too horrible to name.
It is his source of great prestige
To have beat them with their own game.