A Shepherd On The Hills

A Piercing gaze, A quizzical look

Curious about the purpose

An unwilling half broken smile

On a memories creased face,

 

A faded topi colour lost in the sun,

Tell tales of the time on the mountains,

Time of solitude, of reminiscence,

Time of a heart-song, of a folk-tale

Time of a new love, of a lost youth

 

The grass his bed, the bleating sheep his confidantes

the blue sky his canvas, the valley his play field.

 

Ever wondered what it is to be a shepherd?