the barefoot bard Poet Rhyme

Notes About The Poem

Still suckling on the Breast ???

Grow tropical fruits here, near where I live,
 harvested, immediately, travels sixteen hundred kilometres south
 Then returns on that long journey  finally  stacked on supermarket shelf 
 name themselves The Fresh Food People, not so fresh , now inside your mouth

 Family farm days amongst beef and wool ,one jersey cow for daily milk
goad her in, lock her head inside a bail
Sit ourselves upon a stool, clasp each hand around  a teat
gently squeezed, squirted milk, to fill a ten litre metal pail

Transferred inside to kitchen bench could drink fresh milk if immediately  desired
On dairy farm aged sixteen, observing milk collection styles 
Twenty four hours gets to factory ,they claim its fresh, not me. We've been taken for a ride

Don't support commercial farming, grow my own,visit local markets
Lots of fresh to fill up several wicker baskets

Seek out  real meaning of fresh, buy only what fills the wellness bill
nothing's fresh, if  you're lined up to pay at the local "supermarket" checkout till

The only milk that's  ever really fresh is what's taken, directly from the breast
Lie beneath a  dairy cow, get your face right down close to it's udder 
Let me know if you are satisfied with your experience and if the cow enjoyed you as a guest


Footnote: Excluded all dairy almost 50 years ago. Am now always feeling rather Fresh !!!!!

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