Pastures

The dreaming sheep in 
pastures cool and green
Beneath the moon and 
countless stars are seen;
The shepherd tends to 
their innate desires
And nurtures sleeping
whimsy's inner scene.

The night, as sharp 
alertness then expires,
Does lead the flock to 
sleep their day requires;
The sheep who graze 
upon enchanted sod
Do leap past fences 
As delighted fliers.

The herd which slumbers 
as a wooly squad
Does quell the fearsome 
beasts - both fanged 
and clawed;
Protected by their 
herder and his dog,
Their dreams are guided 
by his staff and rod.