If I Could Have a Word with God

If I could have a word with god, I'd ask a lot of stuff
I'd ask whether a woolly fleece was adequate enough
And if a wolf would give up if his mouth was full of fluff

I'd ask him, her or it (perhaps) if it would be a strain
To give a little sheepie just a bit more in the brain
So he would have the sense to not stand too long in the rain

And then I'd ask about the soul and if a sheepie shared
Whatever benefits it had and why two-leggies cared
Or whether it was all a con from which the sheep were spared

Then I'd ask about the start and where it all began
And what he really thought about the strange two-leggied man
And just where little sheepies fitted in the masterplan

And then I'd ask the big one, as a little sheepie poet,
Whether the all-powerful had considered that the parrots
Were really suitable to be the only rhyme for carrots.