Wandering

They’re only lambs, just common sheep, Their coats are woolly, warm and deep. Through fields of green they roam at will They wander on the plain and hill To find the tender shoots of grass; Contentedly their days they pass. Then when the field is bare, they’re lead To verdant ground where they’ll be fed. The shepherd knows which path will lead To pastureland, to stream and mead. At night in folds they safely lie – Their shepherd guards with watchful eye. When morning comes, again...