Sheep, dear, flocked. United. Peaceful. Protected. His fold. Though, sometimes nibbling, thus, drifting unsafely away. Yet, sun nor rain does he spiteful withhold. https://allpoetry.com/poem/14412274-Lead-Me--Feed-Me.--Led--Fed-by-Lucretia-Mccloud
Want to Write Better? Go Sit In the Rain
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