Cows Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Cows in their green parlours,
Chew in sideways chews,
And for conversation,
Fill their mouths with moos.

Mumsy blousy matrons,
Vie to boost milk yields.
Tails like stirrup pumps rise,
Fertilising fields.

Khaki flies in clover,
Nuzzle in the mess.
Meanwhile, cow sinks down to
Lick her piebald dress.

Cows have secret places,
Where they lie concealed,
Shadows by the beech trees,
Rye grass in the field.

Udders swing like satchels,
Cows from Crieff to Dover,
Bow their horns to Heaven,
Pray for banks of clover.

High above their noses,
Cows can ticklish be.
Rub them like Aladdin
They'll moo in ecstasy!

Lumbering and lactating,
Harem behind the bull,
Bless those grassy munchers
Who make our coffee cool!