Three woolly friends in fields of green, Where mountains tower, proud
and keen. With heads bent low, they graze in peace, A quiet scene
where worries cease.

They nibble soft on tender grass, As clouds above in silence pass.
Around them, hills roll wild and free, Beneath the sky, a harmony.

In coats of white, like winter’s snow, They wander slow, where breezes
blow. A simple life, serene and still, In nature’s arms, on gentle
hill.

So let them roam, these gentle souls, Where mountain air and freedom
strolls. For here they find both peace and home, In endless fields,
free to roam.