THE NIGHT SKY
The night was dark, moon and stars hidden by cloud,
Like flocks of sheep hurrying along in a massive crowd,
Each one very fluffy so time for them all to be shorn,
I wonder could an unseen hand have them done by morn?
The scythe of time could do it by Mother Nature so fair,
Would the white fleece fall as snow in the cool night air,
The very last struggle of winter before giving way to spring,
Or will it fall as sweet rain that makes returning birds sing?
It seems that the shepherd is coming gathering them to the fold,
Each one obeying that kind voice doing just what they are told.
Scurrying behind him so that moon and stars may shine through
At last, look how they seem to race and vanish away two by two
Then the night reveals her treasurers as the sky come into view
Giving us gifts to treasure as the moon and stars seem like new,
Thank you shepherd of the sky night is clear and bright once more,
We even have shadows climbing on the wall near the back door.
The fold must be full of those many wondering flocks of sheep,
It was good that the shepherd his great vigil so well did keep,
See the bright lights round the moon, the twinkling of each star,
A much more rewarding view than fluffy sheep by far.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 11 February 2006