I'm thinking of becoming a veggie
My great grandfather was a butcher
And my grandad to,
My mum delivered the butchers meat
In a little van of blue.
My husband is a farmer's son
And we live on the farm,
His brother is the farmer,
We live a life of charm.
Meat's always on the menu,
Breakfast, lunch and tea,
Sausages, bacon, a nice bit of steak
It's in our ancestry.
Now the family are excellent farmer's
Their cattle are reared with pride,
All calves are kept with their mother's
Through the summer months outside.
But now it's time to bring them in
And the cycle must start again,
The young are separated
And I know this causes pain.
The bellows' are long and mournful,
From sheds they cry to each other,
The cow for its little calf
And the calf for its mother.
So I'm thinking of becoming a veggie
As I've really been distressed,
Listening to the anguished sounds
Has made me quite depressed.
The family are quite astounded
When I say "Let's give up meat."
"You're from a line of butchers!
Our meals wouldn't be complete."
The Sunday roast is a joint of beef
And I don't want to abstain,
As then the poor cow that it's from
Would have died in vain.
So maybe tomorrow, I'll go meat free,
Perhaps I'lll try it for awhile,
"You'll still hear the bellows' next year."
They tell me with a smile.
Copyright © Elizabeth Kinch | Year Posted 2017