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Poetry Milk On The Field
Morning walk
Light and slow
WatchIng the flock
Quiet they go
Live like breath
They daily do
Cold and sleet
In summers and so
The ways are stern
Right and law
A one-way route
Blindly follow
Faith in guide
The shepherds know
Where the grass is thick
And heavenly grow
No bleat heard
There is no outlaw
Red lines are set
To come back home
When the muezzin call
It it time to fold
All the scattered dust
The way rules are told
If a sheep were missed
The blame lays on him
For leaving the flock
Pay for his own whim
And so the herds are happy
Under shepherd's flute
While the poet gleans
The best crop along the route
Pastures laws are sacred
Likewise are the words
All days long on the field
Their true milk never curds
Light and slow
WatchIng the flock
Quiet they go
Live like breath
They daily do
Cold and sleet
In summers and so
The ways are stern
Right and law
A one-way route
Blindly follow
Faith in guide
The shepherds know
Where the grass is thick
And heavenly grow
No bleat heard
There is no outlaw
Red lines are set
To come back home
When the muezzin call
It it time to fold
All the scattered dust
The way rules are told
If a sheep were missed
The blame lays on him
For leaving the flock
Pay for his own whim
And so the herds are happy
Under shepherd's flute
While the poet gleans
The best crop along the route
Pastures laws are sacred
Likewise are the words
All days long on the field
Their true milk never curds
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