A poem about some cows that I saw. I was very happy when I wrote it.


A cloudy breeze upon these rolling fields

a cool and empty air

that drifts across the swaying grass,

hums with the insects in the air,

comforts the hot and sweaty cows that graze throughout the afternoon.


The world is quiet today;


birds chirp merrily, darting to and fro within the

drifting clouds

and rustling branches.

Farmers and families live

to the simple melody of the world.

The cows are grazing in the fields.

Those giant necks lower snouts to the ground,

snurling and nuffling the ripe green grass,

chewing from the very sprouting earth,

such raw goodness that fills their fat stomachs,

hear the churning,


of this very creature of soil.

The insects flick and twicker upon their backs,

light upon those heavy, meaty backs.

Queens of the roasting sun,

great and gentle giants of the meadows,

of the ambling country.


How softly do they live,

contented in the




gulping of their feeding,


the occassional passing of another,

the brushing of hides.

Inhabitants of nature's glory, gorge yourselves upon the grass.

And live,

as beautifully as we could hope for.

Moo from your throats, a deep, contented, hum with the insects,

the air and all.


from the very endless satisfaction of your being.


Birds flitter in the sky and insects in the air,

quick and free and frail

The cows are eating in their fields,

the grass is growing on the hills


The End

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