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Bossy Memories

The honored beast of black and white
Well spoken of in verse
In real life is a bit more flawed,
Sometimes is even worse.

Granted that she does give milk
To make butter, yogurt, cheese
And ice cream sweet and smooth as silk;
At times she fails to please.

Just when I plan a trip to town,
She’s seen outside the fence.

Somewhere she’s trampled fences down
And challenged my common sense.

Such delays I take in stride
If no emergency
Prompts the necessary ride
And there’s a remedy.

Again, to get the milk she gives
Isn’t automatic.

The one who milks her may forgive
A kick that is emphatic.

Today they’re raised on larger farms;
The back yard cow is rare.

I think she must find ways to harm
The flow of schedules there.

Lest you think nostalgia fails
To give appreciation,
I love the stuff she gives in pails
Made to gourmet creations.

©2010 Carol Morfitt

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