the bull is in the field with an array of cows
Bitches of all description with white backs
Some with brown spots and big ears
They all have wide eyes and long tongues
Too many choices for a bull with a mind for love
Or lust or something pure beyond the grass
She smiles then moos a long deep moo
I swear she winks but it could be a tick
She advances with a shimmer of her teets
He gulps then runs
Through a hedge and over the wall
The farmer stands his head in his hands
Reminded of the one who cooks his food
Words I love to write 