sheep feathery heap

today, there was a fragrance upon the fabric moor

as i lay in the sward lea i smelled cadent beauty

as if someone came here right before

i woke up to licking on my cheek,

there it was, a pink sheep 

i gathered it became windy as i fell asleep

so there came my pink sheep,

laid on top of me, 

that i became enveloped in white fluff

in the middle of the valley bed, beneath the trees upon open land, 

there i lay, a feathery heap

looking into the eyes of my pretty sheep, 

i asked if she had the petals of your scent 

the sheep said nothing,

the sheep knew what i was thinking 

and so i called your name, 

under the sky it did not echo but traveled in an airy loop, 

to before i fell sleep, 

and before i found the mossy heap,

to your nap upon the forest keep,

right on the mossy heap,

and you heard me, and thought, 

what is that smell? 

it's as if i know her 

before she fell