The Little Black Lamb
Once upon a time when I was young
I used to wander through the woods;
I even made the squirrels my friends
Even touching them when I could.
Each day it was my chore to do
Spreading salt licks for the sheep:
As they wandered on wooded paths
The little lambs would whirl and leap.
Now and then some of the lambs
Were abandoned with no milk to drink;
And I would feed them bottled milk
Their tails would wag and eyes would blink.
I loved to feed these little lambs
Some wound their way into my heart;
And then when fall rolled round
These lambs from me would part.
The little lambs were gone
By the time the winter came;
All but one little black lamb
No one wanted as he was lame.
I loved to hold and feed him
And he responded weakly to me;
I was his very life line
And a long life was not to be.
I was sure my heart would break
As I had to say goodbye;
It was in my loving arms
That little lamb chose to die.
© Cecelia Gross
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