Nectar.
She whistles her charges with shrill treble then in distant field
flicking ears hear, long legs flex,
tongues slick thirsty lips while giant heads, raising from dozes
among marigolds skyward stretch.
Flanks heave upward and as un-gainly frames meander home
vacant eyes gaze at flaming sunset.
Mooing with milk-weight cows move toward barn where waits
feed of hay as maid's cool hands calm
hot udders by touch of experience for care disarms nerves as
cream spurts comfort into parlour.
Results of ate meadow-grass creating white nectar demands
mind-set's intent to work hard.
Chewing late cud large inmates take patient turns for gaining
relief while the girl's milking pail
fills, spilling pearls onto each long-tail twirl as evening fades
for liquified cream needs time to take.
Bovines train by responding to kindness when the husbandry
comes taught from the cradle.
Brimming founts require daily capped heads of willing labour
whose cows produce gratefully.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: August 6th, 2020 03:22
- Comment from author about the poem: Days of milking by hand are still the same for some small farmers and out for an airing is my tribute to willing family labour.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments4
Wonderful words Fay, seeing cows milked properly is so good to see in these days.
Andy
A fine write Fay.
tis easy when ya get the hang of it.. but ya got to get the hang of it... and I swear they are so grateful at the end of the day....
it is such a shame that not everyone today even knows where our daily pint originates ....
I know what you mean and agree - -- grateful for the relief and that fingers feel warm and caring - -- shame that there are not more young or older 'uns taken to see the wheres and hows of milk production............... glad yu am back safe-n-sound mon ami - rest is the order of today then..........x
wonderful throwback, sad that even smaller farms nowadays utilise machinery, with menacingly clanging mechanisms that seemingly suck the life out of what ancestral heritage remains - of our once tightly grasped union with nature
meaningful subject, engaging writing as always
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.