The Miracle of Marshside Lea

In Marshside Lea, there stood a tree, old in trunk and bough
'Twas long ago, this tale, although, it may still stand there now
And in its shade, the young sheep played as often did young lambs
Whilst in the eye, always nearby, of their respective dams

One sunny day in early May beneath that ancient tree
Sheep upturned eyes to their surprise saw in the canopy
A woolly white unsheeply light, a vision uncompared
To which sheep sense and innocence was largely unprepared

Beyond the norm, a sheeply form stood high in proudly stead
The sainted glow of a bright halo glister’d round its head
A sheep of peace and from its fleece there grew out feathered things
Which caused a shock within the flock; this noble sheep had wings !

‘Hark Sheep’, it said, ‘be not in dread. I see where evil lurks’
‘I now pronounce: Lo Sheep! Renounce, Satan and his Works!’

At first bemused and then confused, the flock all looked about
But could not find, of any kind, a Satan to cast out

‘O Sheep, Repent, O Sheep Relent, O Sheep Embrace Your God!’
The woolly horde with one accord decided this was odd
‘O Sheep, you need to give up Greed, base Lust and Sinful Pride’
At this reproof, a shamed sheep hoofed a carrot to one side.

‘Abide with this, Sloth, Avarice and Envy, give no heed’
‘Keep thou free from Gluttony, and let not Wrath impede’

The sheep were getting listless now, but unsure what to do
While getting bored, most was ignored, but Wrath was something new!
Then from the fold, there stepped a bold old ram towards the tree
And bravely spoke into the oak's o'erspreading canopy,

'Oh Sheep of Might, and Holy Light, we would not give offense,
But we can take, from what you've spake, very little sense!'
We're kind of slow of think, y'know,but this is far too steep
Why'd we be heeding special pleading of a feathered sheep?'

'Oh Foolish Ram, you think I am to stoop into a lie
For I, forsooth, do bring you truth from Him up in the sky'

The flock, unhumbled, grumply mumbled back into the tree
'We don't know you, or what is true, and tell us, Who Him Be?'

The strange sheep frowned, 'I have come down, to raise you all on high.
Increase your worth from mundane earth to blue unfettered sky!'

The sheep alarmed, were less than calmed, they gathered in a bunch
Lest they be raised, from where they grazed, too far above their lunch
They did not care for beasts of air, those simple beasts of field
And likewise not to leave their lot, nor one grass blade to yield

'You foolish few, you could be new recruited Lambs of God!'

The foolish few, reformed anew, into a woolly squad
And with a bleat,the mob complete rushed mad into the tree
Enough to rock the tree with shock into the canopy

The trunk below stood firm, although, the higher branches shivered
The strange sheep glanced with looks askance as all about it quivered
Its four hooves slipped, his unsure grip upon the perch fell loose
Down from the tree, the flock could see, the wings were not much use

Brought down to earth, the prophet's worth seemed lesser than before
The saintly glow dulled down below when perched upon a floor
Now not so high to the ovine eye the woolly wretch appeared
Lowly, forlorn, and badly shorn and short and seemed afeared

Sheep are simple in their ways
With intellect unblessed
When they cast up their sheeply gaze
They tend to be impressed
For what is higher than a sheep
Maybe deserves renown
But lower things are in their keep
And seen by looking down.

Looking up, the tarnished tup, beheld a flustered flock
His strange foray confused their day - he feared a mood amok,
Found through the fray, a way away, and hooved it through the dust
Wool wits agape at his escape, the flock were left nonplussed

The woolly wight pursued its flight towards the setting sun
Its wings were clearly useless things when fleeing need be done
They lay concealed as, ‘cross the field, it leapt a further fence
The sheep were caught in shallow thoughts that failed to render sense

Sheep do not puzzle long on stuff
However odd it seems
One puzzled thought is quite enough
To upset woolly dreams
And so the strangeness that had passed
Without a why, or what
In woolly minds could not long last
And soon was just forgot.

Copyright © Lee Leon | Year Posted 2014

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