She didn’t want to fall asleep—
The very thought just made her weep,
And so she never counted sheep
Or tried in any sort of way
To fall asleep. Then one dark day
She thought it was too dark to play
Outside. And then the lights went off.
She thought she heard a monster’s cough.
She tried her very best to scoff.
But Sleep itself appeared to her.
He looked just like a foggy blur.
“What are you doing here, strange sir?”
She asked. “It’s just to help you, dear,”
He said—and waved around her head
A wand. And then she seemed so dead.
But she was not, of course. Just full
Asleep—and loving it. The wool
Of many sheep had shown the pull
Of counting, which, of course, she’d done—
She’d counted sheep, yes every one.
And learned that math and sleep are fun.