Remembering Belle

She was a devoted ole gal always at her best so many days I cried hanging off her chest down to the lake in the hot summertime we would cool her off and swing on a vine Every morning at five am here came Belle, now my friend and again at six pm there Belle was ready to work again years passed and Belle became a part of our family we worked, we played, and we milked twice a day Half my life she was one of my dear friends I greeted her in summer with warm sun burnt skin and in winter I spent my time warming them when Belle died I can't say things were ever the same again Belle had become more than a cow in a pen, who gave us milk she became a babysitter, a circus act, part of the swim team, for the neighborhood but most of all Belle had become a lonely teen's dear friend