The hardy herdsman🐑

Oh ye the stormy night as the hardy herdsman tends his sheep

As he trudges through winter’s wrath within solid snow drifts dense and deep

An antagonising Arctic air cuts through him like a sharpened knife stifling his weep

His cold, calloused hurting hands pile up the foddered hay in a heap..

On and on all night long this shepherd traces his tiresome tread

Whilst you and I lay slumbered amidst the darkness in our comfy bed

Alas there can be no repose for this farmer ~ he will not rest his weary head

Until the twilight turns to the crack of dawn and his flock are all tucked safely in their shed...