CRITTERS FROM THE WEST, CRITTERS FROM THE EAST


 

EAST AND WEST MEET ON SIX LEGS

 

 

Littly Lamb bumping hooves over stones

Catching cracked toe on tumbled old bone

Jostled shell unexpected old Turtle in tones

Reminding  hungry Littly and Turtley of scone

The Crookeye Shepherd got from the milkmaid in pones.

So weak now the friends edge to another gate

Soon cathing up with FlopEars bending back to a tune

So low and sweet from unknown strait

Flipping critter hearts with cooing croon

So long had Dovey perched on balding pate

Soon shining in early light holding saucy spoon

Now strong from care from unknown keepers

Friends passed through the strange gate that was no more

Now solid stone blocking retreat so no more weepers

Friends could spare for facing morning sun galore

Now critters and folk saw only one trail for leapers

Friends in faith joined by memory of go-tell Babe for more

Oh, east wind, oh rising sun, oh blowing sands did meet

These friends so bound by call to go-tell,go swell

Oh world unknowing of groaning girl and groaning street

These friends had crept along in halting pell mell

Oh alleys and stones and corners and scattering meets

Thse friends so oddly matched yet perfect in Go, Tell!

Now most strange starsong from off blind hills

Swelled all around these friends drawing them on

Now most strange starsong told of humping clumping thrills

Swelled most windy chorus swept from croaking tone

Now most strange to friends o’er blown by Croaker skills

Swelled in knowing hum was knowing of Catty now winged clone.

“Oh, what means those croaks with humpy crowned sixlegged kings?”

Friends flopped and stamped and crooky eyed did inquire.

“Oh, what means following singing star, rushing chorus rings?”

“Friends, oh friends, how meet, how tell such beasty squire?”

Oh, how go, how tell, how love-swell so unknown things?”

                                   Friends stumbled on, friends pushed by Babe in bier.

 

Advertisement

Little Lost Lamb Found a Shortcut


 

 

LOST LAMB AND HIS SHORTCUT

 

“Oh, all my brothers and sisters are sleeping so good.

“Now I can slip away to those tender shoots

“for Mother a special surprise of a special sweet bud,

Found I with many a pawing in my muddy boots.”

 

Thus did Littly Lamb plan and prance away in the night,

Smiling with lovelit eyes as he nibbled his surprise

Nodding his curly head as he skipped with new might

Away towards Family Sheeply holding this green prize.

 

Littly Lamb hopped around the last big rock so bright

Now with sweeping new lights showing the way,

Now with sudden new sweep of singing wind’s kite,

Litttly Lamb blinked away a wing bright as day.

 

“What sweeps past me, feathering my path,

So bright, so shining, yet soft does it glow?”

“What path does it show with sweeping lathe

Of carving song, molding chords, sweeping bow?”

 

Littly Lamb saw no Mother, no brother, no sister,

no guardians at hillside once folding the flock,

Littly Lamb heard only sighings, saw far mister

softening the bleatings, echoed far rock.

 

“Oh, I must bring tenders to Mother, must follow;”

“Oh, must follow, must find again by another path,”

did Littly Lamb pant to himself scrambling in hollow;

did Littly Lamb tumble to scramble most in wrath.

 

Then did Littly Lamb blink in blindness a fall of feathers.

Then did Littly Lamb tumble down a strange craig,

rolling and winding and landing far down by leathers,

Collars draped down by his own guard’s leg.

 

“Oh, where are we, Master, where are we, Mother?”

did Littly Lamb squeak as he shook off the fallen.

“Oh, what is that hay smell, that bay smell by Brother?

“Oh, what is that glow bright, that windsong callin’?”

 

Oh, Littly Lamb, with so much love crooning in heart;

Oh, Littly Lamb, with so much wonder blinking your eye;

Oh, Little Lamb, with so much life waiting to dart;

Oh, Little Lamb, behold so much peace from on high.

 

For, Littly Lamb, in the City of David near your fields

Now lies a Little One born to touch all souls

Now lies a Little One born to walk all rocky yields

Now lies a Little One born to gift His Mother tolls.

 

Oh, Littly Lamb, step near, watch near the night away;

Oh, Littly Lamb, lie down the hay for peace and joy;

Oh, Littly Lamb, for you under angels’ wings’ dismay

did hold tight tender greeny gift for Jesus Boy.

 

 

 

 
 

 

Recent Tweets

%d bloggers like this: