Follow-my-Leader

Across the hillside
sheep play follow-my-leader,
follow-my-leader

follow-my-leader
until the leader stops to
eat ... let's eat ... let's eat

let's bleat ... let's bleat ... let's
follow-my-leader, follow-
my-bleater-and-eat.

poem © Celia Warren 2012

Warm, hazy sunshine.
Looking across towards Stoke Fleming, South Devon.
Within minutes of the sheep all setting off in this long procession across the hillside, they were spread out again, steadily grazing. Don't know what inspired the sudden procession, but it didn't last long.