I love with all my heart:
She gives me cream with all her might,
To eat with apple-tart.
She wanders lowing here and there,
And yet she cannot stray,
All in the pleasant open air,
The pleasant light of day;
And blown by all the winds that pass
And wet with all the showers,
She walks among the meadow grass
And eats the meadow flowers.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
Loved this poem. There's something strange and alien-like about cows. The way their hip bones protrude above their rump. The rythmic chewing of their cud. The piebald patterns across their backs. Strange and beautiful creatures. (But stinky.)
ReplyDeleteThanks for your comment, Christie! Stay tuned for more cow poetry!
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