Farmyard Antics 113 Poem by Phil Soar

I strolled into a farmyard
Among the Baa's and Moo's
I saw a lot of quadrupeds
Who seemed to have the blues
Standing deep in their own mess
The farmer was away
And left them feeling in distress
For more than a few days
A Bull took up the mantle
Of covering the farmers ass
He guided them into a field
And left them eating grass
And then he took advantage
No sign of much remorse
And had his way with every cow
In farmyard intercourse