Tree roots are my favorite seat, mushrooms are cushions
Occasionally my thoughts drown in the music of sheep and birds
Light-colored birds fly above me, up in the trees they gather
To watch the meeting of white wool spread across the green grass
Some bolder birds come down to join the massive banquet,
Picking stray insects that fled the grass as the sheep graze
*** {so I sang my song…}
Down by the riverside, I wait for my flock to graze,
I listen to the beautiful lamb call out to their mothers,
I wait for sunset and the breezy evening to come
Now thoughts of my warm bed, of hay come to me
And night skies, which when besieged by glittering stars
Tell many stories that take me, joyfully to my dreamland
Oke Iroegbu's Blog 