Sheep Herd

In a sleepy meadow, where the grasses sway,
Lived a shepherd named Gerbald, a shepherd so lazy.
With his sheep grazing lazily in the sun,
He strummed his flute, his melodies begun.

Oh, Gerbald the shepherd, with his melodies bold,
His lazy tunes, a story untold.
The wolves they trembled, their fears were unfurled,
As Gerbald played, protecting his world.

As the sun dipped low, and darkness drew near,
The wolves would prowl, filling hearts with fear.
But Gerbald, the shepherd, with his flute in hand,
Played a cacophony, a tune so grand.

Oh, Gerbald the shepherd, with his melodies bold,
His lazy tunes, a story untold.
The wolves they trembled, their fears were unfurled,
As Gerbald played, protecting his world.

The wolves howled, their eyes wide with fright,
The chaotic notes sent them into the night.
Their predatory hunger turned to dread,
As Gerbald's melodies echoed in their stead.

With his sheep gathered close, their hearts at ease,
Gerbald played on, the shepherd's melodies.
The wolves, defeated, retreated from the sight,
Leaving Gerbald and his flock safe in the night.

Oh, Gerbald the shepherd, with his melodies bold,
His lazy tunes, a story untold.
The wolves they trembled, their fears were unfurled,
As Gerbald played, protecting his world.

So let us raise a toast to Gerbald's skill,
A lazy shepherd, with a flute so still.
For even in idleness, he found a way,
To keep his flock safe, from dusk till day.

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Tags: Cliff