Monday, November 4, 2013

The Sheepdog and the Lamb

When Ah regard mah ickle flock
Ah reco’nize each scar an’ pock
On sheepy visage standin’ there
Fra’ dolefu’ eyes ta woollen hair
Each looks th’ likeness o’ anither
As if each ta' each war sister'n brither
A mere dug like me caint keep in view
The diff’rence ‘tween each ram an’ ewe
 Or li’l wee sheeplings ou’ i’ the snow
They could be goa's fer all Ah know!
But they sartainly take care, one fer th’ ither
E’en in winter’s damne-ploorable wither
Ye'll grant sheepies this much, that ye can:
Sheep’s better ta’ sheep than man is ta’ man.
See ‘em, aw hooddled togither ta avoid th’ cauld
They bleat out their luve ta young n’ ta auld!

Et’cept Ah see one sheepling ou’ on the lea
‘Oo’s no’ been met wi’ courtesy
‘Is face wars seen i’ a woolf’s lair
Now sheep is back, but ‘is face-- still there
Fer there’s no croolty greater’n one ‘ats bent
On ‘arming a critter whats inno-cent
After doin’ wha’ evil a woolf’s wont ta’ do
He sent back this sheep ta’ its mother ewe
An’ relieved ta’ recover its ain sheep kin
The sheep knew it war safe fra’ inscru’able sin
But bein,’ like aw sheep, o’ limi’ed brain size
These kin their own lamb dinnae rec’nize
And they hoodled much closer-- those what were left
While li’l wee sheepie wars then aw’ bereft
And couldn’t rely on ‘is brither nor frien’
E’en arfter escaping a bru’al woolf’s den!
If thar's one sight a sheepie caint stan' ta' see
It's the sight o' ovine misery
An' ta' avoid it they wou' abolish aw sin
But failin' tha' ignore their ain suff'rin' kin.

Oh li’l sheep cub Ah would spare ye this pain
And raise ye jus' like ye war mah ver’ ain
But Ah'm afeard we can expe't no better fra' sheeps
'Oo aren't known ta' untell'gent comp'ny keep
We cannae ask such sheeps ta’ pause an’ reflect--
Being critters, ye know, o’ sma’ intellect--
Whe’ e’en wiser critters-- such as you an’ me
We too starve our yung on abandoned lea
And hoodle togither ta’ escape th’ storm
And blin’ ourseln to th’ one ‘oos forlorn.

Wha’ causes me ta’ wake in the mi’l o’ the nigh’
And star’ up fra’ dreams aw a-scared an’ affright
Is tha’ had it been mah ain injur’d pup or whelp
‘Oo was cryin’ ou’ there wi’ou’ any help
Whose calls ha’ no answer but a corpse's echo
Whe’er fra’ Dog up above or dug here below--
Would Ah ha’ done better ta’ such a wee ‘un
Than what them dimwitted sheepies ha' done?

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