Sonnet: The Lamb

A Lamb I am, grazing in the meadow,
Nibbling the grass from dawn to dusk my way,
In Mother Nature’s lap from morn through day,
While my time passes off happily tho’.

My shepherd with his staff crooked and long
Steadfastly watches over me from morn,
From Wolves and Vixen, I know him my tone,
Resting under a tree, hearing bird–song!

And then life becomes treacherous for me;
Men take away my wool, leaving me cold;
The butcher kills me with his knife bloody;
My life thus ebbs whether I’m young or old.

But Maker has destined me thus, I know;
Except to serve Him, I’ve no other go!

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!