Shearing time

 I once had a brother in law by the name of Steve, who owned a small spread north of Alamosa, Colorado and when my sons were small we would visit the ranch a couple times a year.  One year we were there it was in mid March and Steve was busy shearing the sheep.  It was about 20 degrees during the day and dipped down to below zero at night.  I thought it was almost mean to remove all their wool when it was so cold but he had to so that when the lambing started there would not be an issue of the extra wool for the lambs to enter the world.

Another poem,  I started the poem and of course being a wife that she is, Ruth had to fix the rhyming a bit more.  Below is the original poem I wrote all by my self and actually it is my very first poem.  BTW, if you are wondering why Orville is sitting in a puddle of water, have you ever seen how a buck toothed beaver talks?