it started with a sheep and then a gentle farmer who sheared it for the summer's heat next came the farmer's wife who washed it clean and carded it til it was soft and fluffy and then as the fall nights turned brisk she spun it into yarn by the firelight the snow began to fall and the days grew darker and now she sat in the stillness with the click-clack of her needles as the little ones made angels in the drifts then little pitter-patters on christmas morn stopped in front of the hearth and there from the fireplace hung two stockings created with love and stuffed with goodies galore
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