Five Little Sheep by the Gate

The sun has gone down, and the sky is turning blue.

Over the hill, a big round moon is coming up. And on the other side of the wooden gate, there’s a meadow of long, soft grass. Just right for sleeping.

By the gate, there are five little sheep.

Let’s count them. One, two, three, four, five!

Can you hold up five fingers?

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Five little sheep by the wooden gate, yawning and stretching. It’s getting late!

Who’s going first?

The big bouncy sheep! She takes a run, and…

“Baa!” BOING!

Over the gate she goes. She lands in the long grass, turns round three times, and settles down to sleep.

How many now? Fold one finger down.

Four.

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Four little sheep by the wooden gate, yawning and stretching. It’s getting late.

Who’s next?

The woolly sheep, round as a cloud. Ready, steady…

Hop!

Over the gate she floats, and lands with a soft flump. She snuggles into her woolly coat and closes her eyes.

How many now? Fold one finger down.

Three.

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Let’s say it a little more quietly now.

Three little sheep by the wooden gate, yawning and stretching. It’s getting late.

Who’s next?

The sheep with the little bell. Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling…

Hop.

Over the gate she goes. Ting… a… ling. She lies down so gently that her bell goes still.

How many now?

Two.

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Two little sheep by the wooden gate, yawning and stretching. It’s getting late.

Who’s next?

The sheep with black socks on his feet. He tiptoes up to the gate, pat, pat, pat…

hop.

Just a small one. He tucks his black socks under him and gives a long, slow yawn. Baa-aa-aah.

How many now?

One.

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One little sheep by the wooden gate… the littlest lamb. It’s getting late.

She looks up at the gate. It’s very tall, and she’s very sleepy.

But on the other side, the big bouncy sheep wakes up. It’s her mummy. She gives the gate a gentle nudge with her nose.

Creak…

The gate swings open, just a little, just enough.

And the littlest lamb toddles through, and curls up close to her mummy, warm and woolly and safe.

How many sheep by the gate now?

None at all.

Tuck your fingers away, all cosy in your hand.

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Five little sheep in the meadow deep, under the moon, all fast asleep.

The grass is still. The gate is still. The moon is watching over them.

Are there any more to count?

Only one.

Someone small, in a cosy bed, with sleepy eyes and a sleepy head.

It’s you.

Close your eyes, little one.

Shh…

Goodnight.

The End