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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