From Milk Too Dreams Poem by James McLain

This line this dream is endless, long hair now tied back.
Sitting down, one milkmaid...with wet hands, explains.
Talking more, helps to ease, some of there discomfort.
Her slim long arms are sculpted and well muscled.
She sings sweet songs, long slim fingers, strong practiced hands.
With rivers flowing and like love when it's full are her strokes.
Dawn runs off morning, hot noon mixes full with each evening.
These are the hands that work, magic on udders thick as roots
as they wander around up and down, for all making butter.
Seven days a week with six children too feed, while her man does
hard time and is forced too keep her back against the fence.