Little Lambs

 

Like every November, winds are cold,
Weather is pleasant, rays are mild,
And beautiful days take less time to fold.

Birds open their wings and love to sing
Cows walk slow and river dance with flow
Trees whirl with air, sun doesn’t now glare,
Eyes have no complaint this gorgeous season
To be unhappy there is no reason,
Sun dipping deep far behind rock,
Faraway in jungle terrible lions roar,
High clock tower announces four,
And I am worried why my sheep are not home,

I take my hat and whistle to my pets,
“O! My cute sheep. Come before sun sets?
“Little Lambs! Do you remember the way to home?
And if don’t know why do you roam?
In backyard garden or in mango trees field,
Where are you hidden, no-one is to shield,”
I pass by market streets and go by bakery shop,
Search seeps everywhere in the green crop,
In Aunt Lucy’s nursery, I know my sheep sits,
There I will find my sweetheart little lambs.

“Aunt Lucy, Aunt Lucy, did you see my sheep,
Are they eating behind old wooden boats?”
Either they are in cauliflower field or they,
Surely grazing in grass ground, surely I can say,
In entire place, I searched round and round,
Nowhere I could my little sheep found.

Now I am afraid… where lambs and sheep,
Agonized I so much, drought my throat,
Where are tiny babies, God! Just save.
There are many big creatures in dark cave,
Dark is darkening show them right way,
Soon bring my lambs back from fields of hay.

I praying, I sobbing, coming back to home
And what I see seven cute lambs
Being loved by mom.