The Sheep

I stand here with my shepherd’s Crook

My pasture filled with docile sheep

They neither want nor need to weep

Each one’s name written in my book

Not one will ever be forsook

I take attendance day and night

Assuring that their fleece is white

The silence truly is a feast

As I stay with each bovine beast

To save it from a noisome plight


3 thoughts on “The Sheep

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