On the first day,
They had made a sheep
That was identical in every way.
It was a huge genetics leap,
The scientists would say.
DNA! DNA! DNA! they would cry
That’s the key to it all.
More and more things they’d try
To keep the public enthralled.
But it had to be bigger
It had to be new.
And so they tried for a famous figure,
They threw names into the pot
Who had blood, or bones, or hair?
Who would be worth another shot?
The pickings were surprisingly rare.
Soon it was decided;
A writer, a great.
Through the museum the hair was provided
And placed onto the machine’s plate.
And lo, at the age when the hair was taken,
There stood Sir Walter Scott!
But quickly they realised they were mistaken
Their work had all been for naught.
True they had managed to awake him;
But, his way with words
He had forgot.