Harsh emergence.
Painful and Cold.
Just routine!


New world, first hunger
Imperative bleat.
Pious protection, brought from Peru,
Alpacca guards, Reynard, Adieu!
Snow covered fields break free, flowers burgeon,
The grass is sweet, life’s promise emerging.
With rewards and joy in untold measure,
Youth demands indomitable pleasure.


Daisys and Buttercups, rabbits and cows.
Mice in the fields and birds on the boughs.
Enjoy April showers, and meadows and streams
Remember them carefully, soon they’ll be dreams.
Frolick and frisk, little lamb, while you may,
King of the Castle you cannot stay.

719762263_273e6a6cd4_m.jpg For Paradise abruptly, with

no warning, transmutes.

No music in birdsong, or Pan’s lilting flutes.
Mammon is gleefully counting his lucre,
Salivating, savouring, ringing the bell.
The sacrificial lamb is now destined to dwell
on a bar-be-que stick dipped in something from hell.


Scientifically fed, artificial growth quotas.
Everything governed by impossible rotas.
Creep feeding, unheeding.
To prepare for the table.
What would she say, if nature were able?
Her gift exploited, and brutally ravaged,
Innocence abused, plundered and savaged.





Spring is tantamount to a void expectation

Bitter sweet harbinger, death to creation

The exit is harsh.
Planned and prepared.
Lonely and cold.


Just routine.




Please note that I am not an animal activist, or even vegetarian. I am simply commenting on the way of the world, and how we take it for granted, and how sometimes it doesn’t seem fair!

Photographs by courtesy of the following:

Top: First lamb of the Season: Paul Sumner

Second: King of the Castle: Andy Wright

Third : Lamb Fight:  Tess

Fourth: Barbecued Lamb: Jennifer 

Fifth: Lamb 97:  David Wilmot

Bottom: Lamb in a butcher shop/Codero: equality

Thank you.



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