‘Pastoral’ by Brandon Briggs

In meadows green and pastures sweet,
My love and I, we first did meet;
She watched me tend my flock by day,
And yet at night she went away.
She was my sun, my warmth and light,
There by day and gone by night.
At the stream, swift and cold
I would splash, and she would scold,
Reminding me to tend my sheep.
She’d wade in, and I would peep
Her bare feet, so small and white,
And I would cry, she had no right
To play in there, while I must work.
And she would say, I must not shirk;
For my lambs had need of me,
But she could play, yes, she was free.
And with a laugh she’d dance away,
Yes, I must work, and she could play.
But why must she play by my side?
The stream was long, the meadow wide.
Surely there was someplace else
She’d rather be, off by herself;
But without fail, there she’d be.
My love would always come to me.

Brandon Briggs is a student studying English at Gordon College, in Massachusetts.