In fields where gentle breezes play,
The shepherd dreams of dawn’s embrace,
Tender whispers of the day,
In the quiet, sacred space.

The flock gathers by the stream,
While the sun begins to rise,
A world wrapped in golden gleam,
Beneath the vast and open skies.

Nature’s chorus softly sings,
In harmony with his heart,
The simple joy that morning brings,
A timeless, rustic art.

Yet shadows linger, long and deep,
As the day gives way to night,
The shepherd’s watchful eyes will keep,
Guarding dreams till morning light.