Once upon a time a cow
who had a flaxen-coloured brow
sat in the barn when time had come
to milk all cows, she felt so numb
that they did call the local vet
who told them not to go and fret.

But all of them knew that no udder
could be relieved without a shudder
so, sitting down, right in the shit
one must have access to the tit.

The farmer's wife convinced the cow
that of the essence time was now,
and thus, while feeding on the fudder
the cows were emptying their udder.

by Herbert Nehrlich

Comments (5)

H, you got teats on the brain! Good poem
Boy, when you get something on your mind you sure do know how to 'roll with it'! Great for a smile......... Sincerely, Mary
Splinters and cows and balls on fire! What a diverse day we're having...lol. I like the poem too.
cute Herbert really cute!
Love it. Talk about forcing rhymes. This is clever, udders - others. Well done Andrew. H