COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!
LA la la la la la la la
A sheep bleats slowly and merrily.
And the farm is moving sleepily.
The cows and goats stir not an inch.
The mortals in their beds dream without a twitch.
Nothing lest the move of the wet dew on the grass disturbs peace,
And the cock opens an eye to witness the glory we all miss.
And sheep and cock meet in their journeys through life.
Sounding their call like a great fife.
And in a sense of finality some twitches occur.
Some noise, some twitch, the glory of the wet morning all over.
Beautiful sound and beautiful smells occupy the dense richness,
And the good old yellow sun wakes up from its lowness.
Sighs and groans amuse the trotting pigs.
Already feeding from their deeply satisfying digs.
Horses trample on the squelch of the earth
And mortals settle for hot tea by the hearth.
The rhythm and the links exhibit the order in the poo.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
October 1999,
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