Cows Poems - Poems about Cows

My Rose Garden was devoured by a cow that thought it was a bull. The farmer and his wife pleaded with the cow to go back to the field. But it refused by stomping and grunting. Now what remains is a baren field, and a broken fence. With not much to eat in the garden but rose thorns, the...

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I see you through the purple flowers. Heart churning in your chest. Sitting cross legged, pumped with powers. Crowning chastity through your crest. Wildflowers hear your song, for it is their song too. The bumblebee lies atop your head, buzzing with the tune. Cows grazing in the field below begin to sway and moo. Red and orange...

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they do and sheep possess concentration levels that allow them to watch television which is extraordinary and so is broccoli i like polo mints my daughter calls them doughnut mints her favourite book is called 'stop that cow' which involves a 357 mag with an 8-inch barrel a pig in a forty-nine dollar wig the agitated cow asks, "you wouldn't happen to have a...

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It seems an eternity, waiting for the cows to come home. They never will, and so why do I wait so long to take a hard look at myself? Mirrored reflections caught in the bourbon glass, fractured and foggy. We drank more than our share last night, and my memory fell down the stairs, ...

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There once was a farmer named Larry With a hundred cows at his dairy Larry did his best Hired help for the rest Milking that many cows was scary ...

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milking cows This is an easy day I wrote something this morning it is hard  to make sentences flow  softly, like the narrow river  where I sat transfixed for hours doing absolutely nothing  I saw a baby trout looking at me swim away, it had other  things on the mind perhaps a juicy worm A holler from the farm go get the cows home they need milking ...

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He wears thick gloves when he strings the barbed wire, fashioning a thorny fence from prickly metal spines, reminding me that cattle like to know the boundaries, the edges of a pasture, clever green grass hesitating on the borders of a place meant for those heavy bodies, warm and mellow like the faded flowers breathing silently, hesitating on the promises of...

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Cowpoke by Michael R. Burch, circa age 16 Sleep, old man... your day has long since passed. The endless plains, cool midnight rains and changeless ragged cows alone remain of what once was. You cannot know just how the Change will rape the windswept plains that you so loved... and so sleep now, O yes, sleep now... before you see just how the Change will come. Sleep, old man... your dreams are not...

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When a class is boring, the air can feel close and rebreathed - not a comfortable feeling for a COVID child. When the class is finally over, it’s like you’ve escaped something. Did you know an hour has 60 minutes because ancient Babylonians used a seximal system? (base six). The class I was in was small,...

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What do cows do? Munch munch grass and moo, Watch horizons long and blue, Listen in to insects humming, Splat fat cow-pats on the dirt. Cows walk to the dairy in a crowd: To and fro, to and fro, Their udders swinging as they go. They line up for the metal calves With sucking tubes all disinfected, Yet cows still seem to sleep contented....

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She was the cat’s meow But yet she cried bow-wow Bow-wow-meow is the place I drink milk moo-moo Not mine skirt apparel I’m the ballerina in the tutu Whom am I to cry out, when in my throat I shout NOW 11/17/23 Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023© ...

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COWS Big pregnant Grazing eating birthing Pasture farm barn field Mating fighting impregnating Big horns BULL...

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super duper pooper scooper...

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She kisses away the weariness, Burdens – inklings of the mystery Birthed by her dream, hope Remembered in the evening when The calf nuzzled – her nourishing, nurturing Gentle as the soft, dark eyes – bleeding Tenderness The new calf stands, wobbly Trembling – taking each tiny step With quivering legs, long and sturdy, Urging him to begin to live, to risk Falling She licks him over...

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Feed them silage for good milk yield. Better than grazing in the field. Inside they come and silage eat and they delight in tasty treat. Dry and warm in the shed they stay munching silage throughout the day. With alcohol at three percent, a happy meal from grass-ferment. They are content and keeping dry and slowly getting somewhat high. But some unsteady on their feet as...

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