THIS POEM IS NOT PRESENTED AS I INTENDED (ie. DOUBLE SPACED).
THIS HAS BEEN DONE BY PERSONS BEYOND MY CONTROL
THUS DIMINISHING THE READING EXPERIENCE.
🙈
On high, an Alpine pasture,
Golden with the sun;
A herd of cattle grazing out
As morning has begun.
Some chewing and some mooing
And rolling in the grass;
Some to-ing, fro-ing, dancing,
Close by the mountain pass.
Higher up the peaks are snowed
But here it\'s yellow bright,
Sundrops showering on the ground
Contrasting with the white.
The greenness of the fertile fields
Providing bovine lunch,
The goodness in the pasturage
Sustains the happy bunch.
And if you move amongst them,
\'bout this time of day
Your eyes will see, full well, the band
Your ears will hear them play.
These maestros of the cowbell
Festooned around the neck
Resounding in the gentle breeze,
Swaying as they trek.
They play their tune, so merry,
A melody to share;
An echo in the valley
Invades the yodelled air.
So, play away your cowbell song
For everyone to hear;
Play them here and there and sweetly
Play them far and near.
ASJ