THE ORPHAN SHEPHERD BOY

Snowhite clouds hung overhead in the limpid blue

Where myriad birds merrily flew

Tickling and nudging

 Poking and pinging

Merrily singing

 Of peaceful climes

 Of happy times.

With make believe affection the waves below caressed the boulders

An orphan shepherd boy sat on a rock, hunched were his shoulders.

Recalling his dead parents with   wistful sighs

 Who vanished without saying their good byes.

He misses

 The kisses

 Of his petite mother

And the mock reprimands of his hardworking father.

Watching the mock affection of the waves   caressing the boulders

Pensively he sits, hunched are his shoulders.

  Distractedly he looks at a speck in the distance

Nothing seems to make any sense.

Is that a blue rock pigeon or a bearded vulture?

When will peace descend and kill this gun culture?

Will it be as endangered as the Hangul Deer?

He shudders in fear.

 Sleep, my child sleep, had sung his mother

In the golden past

Which, alas, did not last.

 More thoughtful he grows, watching the waves caressing the boulders.

 At this superficial affection, more hunched become his frail shoulders.

Ah, there is the tinkling of a bell

A little calf, with half closed eyes stumbles towards him pell mell.

The boy bends down and picks up the calf.

As an old bent shepherd watches, leaning on his staff.

The waters of the Lidder River lie becalmed under the morning sun

Candy floss clouds chase each other in an orgy of fun.

The whole blue expanse of the river and the fathomless sky

Filled with the gorgeous play of sunny azure tinted gleams

 Arm the hapless boy yet again with a handful of dreams.

A sunflower bright

 Raises itself to its full height

And tries to beguile

 The orphan with a smile.                                                  

From somewhere a ripple of merry laughter wafts across to tickle him

He no longer feels grim.

His skin tingles and sounds mingle to create a symphony of love.

He smothers the calf with kisses, eyes no longer sad now.

The waves applaud and affectionately caress the boulders

  He gets up lovingly holding the calf, no longer hunched are his shoulders.

  Joy filled the age chilled heart of the old shepherd and his beard twitched.

The calf luxuriated in the cuddles, as he stood bewitched.

“Come son, let us go home,” in a love laced voice calls the old shepherd.

”Coming granddad”, says his grandson, eyes fixed on a flamboyant bird.

Which chimes of happy times and peaceful climes.

 Playfully the waves caress the boulders

 The shepherd boy forges ahead, the calf safely perched on his shoulders.