Little White Sheep

Dedicated to the memory of my grandfather Florence McCarthy

Fearlessly you trod the mountain ways,
Herding sheep and spreading
Little hard balls of snowy fertiliser
That fall- to rest- in memories
Held in place by u-shaped nails
And hammered into wooden stakes.

Unfailingly, your knowing feet led you
Along the unseen paths and trails-
Etched- in the rocky mountain soil.
They led you down turns and twists,
Across small springs and broken ways
And through the valleys- of- smiles- and tears.

You strode down that corridor,
Your head held high, your eyes bright,
Unfaltering- you battled on
Against the turning tides of life.

And then- you closed your eyes and- slept…

Now above the emerald vales,
Drifting among the fleecy clouds,
You count again- your hopes and dreams,
As you did once before count-
Those little, white sheep.