The splendor of walking a dog

Into the brierly hills

Where pastured sheep

Hungrily chew the cud


Rising their tiny heads

Saying “Good morrow!”

The dog chases

“It will be when I have you!” it replies


You put one foot in front of your heavy staff

The other following without a breath

Then I dream i too am up there

Looking down high above the Earth


By your side breathless

I would be on top of the world

Once more from the height of a dream I fall

Deep down into  slumberland again


Alas I am still at the bottom of that hill

The dog has chased the sheep away

I glance once more to the heavens

And wake  alone!



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