Roll Call on Noah’s Arcs

Each year retired ewes come with lambs at foot. Three now have lambs of their own,
having frolicked with the borrowed tup. Named Oswald Sr. by way of (gratuitous) hint;
his lip curled, like Elvis, as he ran through our gate.

Bridget, Ita. Bridget aptly named, cream-flecked, full of grace. Ita’s face black, with grey fleece  surround. So arresting, pretty.  Her son Oswald the Bully  now runs with  Shetland stallions. An eager wether, he still beguiles but the fence keeps safe distance.
speckled creamy-grey grey black

Morwenna, her son Cuthbert (end of this line) still loved up at the age of six. Morwenna, backbone of ‘the gang of four’:  three elderly ewes plus Cuthbert. Ethelburga’s special friend. As ever, he hangs back, allows others to crowd the shaken snack bucket.
moorit moorit

Ethelburga, Amma, Winifred. In harsh torchlight, Amma nudged and nuzzled. Her lamb
could only roll, jelly without bones. Mum turned her face to the shed, away from the limp, crooked head. With vet’s midnight ‘cocktail’, three hourly feeds held to mum, by noon next day both were sitting proud. Ethelburga remains close at shearing, any time of confusion.
rich mahogany of Shetland black x 3

Hieu, Audrey – modern form of Etheldreda.  Her lengthy birth left Audrey a ‘simple’ sheep,
who wanders apart in a world of her own. Hieu not fit to breed again. They fit with us.
steely grey, light fluffy grey (at least until first shearing)

Nonna, the children’s favourite. A friendly ewe, always the first to greet. At her feet twins Boisil and Bega, inseparable in love and mischief. They head the flock’s fast-paced summer chases, furious raucous celebrations.
grey, grey, black.

Matriarch Hilda, finally friendly at 15 years, 100 plus in human terms.  Her trust was wooed by gentle words, daily hand-fed kibble. Skip a generation. Dear Aebbe gave birth to Marwenne in the gorse. Saw her to a year, then died. Remembered each roll call.
Grey, black, black. 

(Endnote: a wether is a castrated ram. Alas, a tup ram could not be kept with ewes unless all were to be continually impregnanted.)Roll Call on Noah’s Arcs

This poem can be heard on the Sonic Museum, Heids and Herts Scotland

Soundcloud audio clip for Sonic Museum