The Belonely Shepherd
The belonely shepherd
A-toils to sleep
Distressing the blessing
Of herding the sheep
The lone pris’ner freed, with
No time for to pamper.
Glazed eyes on the shadows,
Sheeps’ mouths run and scamper.
They carton on aimless,
Can’t think but themselves,
Their faces unchangeless,
Though he ring the bells.
Maybe one day
They’ll escape to the sun
But the belonely shepherd’s
Not even shorn one.
About the Contributor
Lauren Nagy, Editor
Lauren is a senior at Freehold High School, eager to be entering her third year as a writer for The Colonial's literary magazine and her second year as an editor. An avid reader, she is also a multi-instrumentalist and enjoys knitting when she can find the time. Despite her place in the Medical Sciences program, she foresees a career in neither medicine nor science - and would rather study English, creative writing, and music in college. If she wrote a novel that one day became a widely beloved classic, that would be pretty nice too.