An Italian or Petrarchan sonnet this time. I find this form the most difficult sonnet form of all due to the odd rhyme scheme.
Sheep Gathering
A Mountain Song
The crimson sun has hit the tallest peaks
'Tis time to hunt down all the grazing sheep
From grassy meadow and mountain path steep
From wide plains and the windy barrows bleak
Lest the wolves and creatures their damage wreak
On the flocks while we are all sound asleep.
Let us head out into the twilight deep
Sing a merry song while the sheep we seek
With a crook or staff, go gather them well
And don't let a single one go astray
Or you'll pay for it when you get home, lad,
When your father and mother you do tell.
And don't forget to the goddess to pray
And for your blessings be you truly glad.
Sheep Gathering
A Mountain Song
The crimson sun has hit the tallest peaks
'Tis time to hunt down all the grazing sheep
From grassy meadow and mountain path steep
From wide plains and the windy barrows bleak
Lest the wolves and creatures their damage wreak
On the flocks while we are all sound asleep.
Let us head out into the twilight deep
Sing a merry song while the sheep we seek
With a crook or staff, go gather them well
And don't let a single one go astray
Or you'll pay for it when you get home, lad,
When your father and mother you do tell.
And don't forget to the goddess to pray
And for your blessings be you truly glad.