Counting Sheep

I asked if I could count the sheep,
they like to scatter up the hill.
I run quick step to take a peep
and find a place to lie quite still,
could see the flock beyond the mill.
I spot the new born wagging tails
and watch the rutting baby males.
A fox runs out, the bleating starts
I scramble fast on sod and shale,
he nears the lambs but hears my bark.