Pass the salt, Peter

There once was a boy that loved to cry wolf Whether out loud, or from the realm of dream Mother would say, "Now you know better Rolf" As she bent with her spoon whipping up cream. One late dark July with sheep all asleep, and the moon, but a slivering vague light Two eyes and a grin approached with a creep Keeping croutched down and just out of sight. Next day when the sheep came home for their count They were all there with a "bah" by the gate Even before sweet Rolf's parent's found out Why our young shepard boy was running late. The wolf had his choice between lamb and boy I know what I'd choose between meat or soy.