Sleeping Like a Cow

Lumpen beast of ancient lore
burden bearing aft and fore
never complaining, not a sound
ever plodding brow to ground

labouring on till end of day
mute acceptance in lack of hay
glad for meagre drops of dew
tomorrow promises toil anew

as solstice sun slants down from high
when cowherds court and maidens sigh
reed bank beckons through summer's haze
a stolen moment to doze and graze

so knotted limbs at last will fold
as village tales again are told
children clamber in mother's lap
to laugh and sing, their hands to clap

As daylight fades and eyelids droop
and roosters quieten in their coop
dust finally settling on goats and sows
but no one sleeps like you, or cows.