Tag: the shepherd

King David

Ruddy And with palms strained from playing The guitar He walks home with the happy flock Gentle was his walk Joyful was his apparition So he recalled his adventures The songs he sang under the Sycamore The bear he expelled And the lion he killed Diligently he led the sheep Guiding them Without knowledge of… Continue reading King David

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Three Poems: The Shepherd, Dance for me and Say you believe me

1. The Shepherd Night calls Stars glitter up the skies Picturing stories Which can not be told So the Shepherd views all From his bed of wool 2. Dance for me I hear the sound of your feet As they moved on the bare floor So I looked to see the style for tonight But… Continue reading Three Poems: The Shepherd, Dance for me and Say you believe me

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The Shepherds Tale, another

Night approached silently again And to the shepherd it was time to retire A time of his loneliness, a time of his daydreaming The Night  was the shepherds only companion She brought with her a galaxy and some fresh air And a bouquet of country music from the other locals When the shepherd laid down,… Continue reading The Shepherds Tale, another

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Frankly, the bed is the best thing ever
To happen to a shepherd or a farmer
For it had been a long and hectic day
Though he had little naps along the way
The wailings of the young ram and goats
Disturbs his sleep; he swerves, he waits
He leans forward, allowing his ear to pick up strange noises
For a stray fox, allowing the tip-off to come with the breezes
And when the roosters call out to him
It comes like a blessed sunday hymn
A rendition, a call he has grown up with
And now he can decipher all with his wit

When morning came and the sun arose
He also rises, even as the early cold wind blow
Reaching for a nice and warm silk cloth;
Off he goes, marching away from his tent
Towards the farmstead, which he loved
And muttering to himself, he solemnly prayed
Wishing the flock well, and hoping for a better day ahead
Greeting the flock, he wanders in steps calm but bold

And each time, his joyful smiles know no bounds at the sight of his fine flock
Grazing at the lower vales, with a pond before him and a family of waddling ducks

When it is time to leave the hamlet
To leave the vales and the thornful paths
To seek fresh and sweet grasses
For the little bleating lamb and sheep
The shepherd wakes from his slumber

The roads are rocky and mountainous
Filled with stubborn stones and quarry
The mistletoe grow on the roadside
But the herd march on, happily to other places
Minding the bushes and hare traps

The morning is mild, the sun not awake yet
The clouds heavy with dew and mists
And when the herd sees the gliitering stream
They rush forward for a splash and cold drink
Gulping and disturbing the little fishes

The shepherd bends to wash his sooty face
A young lamb rushes to him, nudging him lightly
Then he stretches his palm, touching her face
Running his hands up and down her neck
And in that delight, she bleats excitedly

The noon comes with the suns heat
The trees provide shed for the shepherd and his herd
He sits on a rock to watch the amazing sight before him;
Lovely lamb and fine sheep grazing humbly
On a vast green valley, full of life

He looks up to the tree branches
As beautiful plummages sing joyfully
And the humming bees that stay on the tree
Smiles draw across his handsome ruddy face
For this lovely sight he sees each day

Even so, the airs become milder as the sun set
The herd walk up to him as he whistle to them
In a few minutes, he has called all to himself
And towards the hamlet behind the hills, they went
Happy again to splash through the waters of the stream

In the evening when the sun is finally set
The happy shepherd returns home to his fluffy bed
For a quick modest dinner of warm milk and bread
And on his bed he turns and tosses to find some rest
Counting the sheep in his mind, and smiling in his sleep