deepundergroundpoetry.com
Spring Time
The sheep could smell the lion.
He had been there all day long,
They had set up in a circle
never before ... ... ... ...
pushed the lambs inside
shoulder to shoulder
facing out and vigilant
staring out the lion.
Never before,
Told the earth was theirs,
what's the use of that
without the oil ?
Surprised, they scared each other,
what to do for best.?
No one moved.
Bleating had long ceased
.
Confused, the lion called his mates.
The pride stood still, waited
their patience exhausted.
The sheep began to move
the circle expanding,now,
now charge the gate!
Eighteenth century timber
strong enough for sheep
. . .so the lions thought,
not this rebellious flock
who charged the gate
smashed off hinges,
roared as never before
snapping at the sheepdog,
as once he had,
ran towards the hills
along the valley floor.
Come join us,was the cry
others charged their barriers
to flee the fields . . .
climbing long forbidden hills,
through copse and pretty gardens,
saw the world they'd heard
when birds came back,
stories not believed.
Here they stand, enough for now.
Guard the peaks hold fast!
Caution friends, this is far enough, ... ... ...
for now ... ... ... ...
He had been there all day long,
They had set up in a circle
never before ... ... ... ...
pushed the lambs inside
shoulder to shoulder
facing out and vigilant
staring out the lion.
Never before,
Told the earth was theirs,
what's the use of that
without the oil ?
Surprised, they scared each other,
what to do for best.?
No one moved.
Bleating had long ceased
.
Confused, the lion called his mates.
The pride stood still, waited
their patience exhausted.
The sheep began to move
the circle expanding,now,
now charge the gate!
Eighteenth century timber
strong enough for sheep
. . .so the lions thought,
not this rebellious flock
who charged the gate
smashed off hinges,
roared as never before
snapping at the sheepdog,
as once he had,
ran towards the hills
along the valley floor.
Come join us,was the cry
others charged their barriers
to flee the fields . . .
climbing long forbidden hills,
through copse and pretty gardens,
saw the world they'd heard
when birds came back,
stories not believed.
Here they stand, enough for now.
Guard the peaks hold fast!
Caution friends, this is far enough, ... ... ...
for now ... ... ... ...
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