A writer once out strolling on her favourite evening walk,

Went ambling by a field where she had found the cows could talk,

She stopped to have a chat, met with the usual choir of ‘Moo’s’,

And answered them with, “Yes, I hope you’ve had a good day too!’

 

Whilst waving to them all and wishing them a sound goodnight,

A strange and rather tragic thing did happen in to sight,

One of the cows, inquisitive, its hide covered with mottle,

Was trying to chew up what seemed to be…gosh, a plastic bottle!

 

‘Oh no!’ the writer cried, on hearing CRUNCH-CRUNCH-CRUNCH-CRUNCH-CRACK!

‘You need to need to drop that, leave it now, go on, just put it back!’

Forgetting cows do not communicate in human words,

And that none of the things she said were really being heard.

 

She couldn’t bear to think of bottle getting stuck in throat,

On animals of every shape and size she liked to dote,

So as she met the glance of one of curious cow’s friends,

She held its gaze and from her heart a quick message did send.

 

Please can you try and help your buddy, that one, over there?

He can’t eat plastic or he’ll choke and that I couldn’t bear!

The cow responded with his eyes that he had understood,

His jaw in motion, side to side, while he did chew the cud.

 

And then the cow looked slowly over at his at-risk mate,

And sauntered off to warn him just before it was too late,

The writer watched on hopefully, the cows stared at their guest,

Both knowing that the passer-by had tried to do her best.

 

The curious cow, on sensing that he really was in danger,

Let go and dropped the bottle, locking eyes with the odd stranger.

I’m grateful for you passing and thinking of my welfare.

If only there were more like you, so kind and full of care.