Two Shepherds Poem by james watkin
Two Shepherds
Scurrying, bleating, to be counted in
From hill to hill, in dews
His rams and ewes.
As pleasing glows, day's end
One's cares descend.
On the heights of God, upon a rock
Heart-barren, another
Sits hunched, unheard.
Through Heaven's gate the calls...
Eve never falls.
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: religious
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9/19/2024 1:44:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
