In the land of sheep and sheep weather
there are long narrow paths
and along them we follow the leader
these paths have a name
it is follow the leader
and along them we follow our leader
until we hop through the gate
that is open before us
dogs are behind us
and walk up the road
that leads to the gate
of the field where the grass grows much greener
than the grass of the field we have left
and here we spread out
each finds a choice place
each one a specialist in a new field
gw2011/
How apt Gwilym that you should publish this poem on the same day that I put on yet another photograph of the valley that holds Cautley Spout with its narrow sheep path.
ReplyDeleteGreat rhythm to this one Gwilym.
ReplyDeletePat, thanks. I enlarged your photo and suddenly there they were - the sheep!
ReplyDeleteGordon, many thanks!