Light drizzle falling softly
This Loughrigg morn
The beast of a man, calmed now in breast
Sits quietly alone
The smell of wool grease from the fleece
A tired shepherd's path to peace
A farmer's comfort, a farmer's toll
A heavy lift to reach the goal
His flock are dipped, none gone astray
A hard day's work, would you not say?
A good day's work to close the day.

Edith G.June 2005