Cattletoday Poetry

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Well, let's get started with Campground and dun,
Two older fellas who can tell you how the west was one,
And let's not forget about LA4,
Another fella that seems to know more,
Then eric and GP78,
Two guys who make people quite irate,
CattleAnnie, frenchie and Cattle Rack,
These guys run on the Canadian track.
And Oldtimer, a sherriff for justice and order,
who seems to have strong views on the border.
Let's not forget txag, certherfbeef and Michelle,
All beautiful ladies, I hear tell.
Of course, there are others, like LonePine and Jake,
Grandfather and Grandson, what a pair they make.
To Macon and his buddies, I say 'atta boy'
Because this is a website I really enjoy.
I'm a registered member, but now that I'm done,
if I told you who, it just wouldn't be fun.
:clap: :clap: :clap: :clap:

c'mon tell us.......such talents shouldn't be hidden!
I have to leave the sniping thread for this

Quite the poem I do say,
I do believe it has made my day,
It twas not me who wrote this for y'all,
I don't think I could without banging my head on the wall,
For dun and lloyd, Cattleannie and the crew,
I now believe I shall spare you and move onto something new.
It's very hard for me to see,
How two old cows with BSE,
can start such a huge fight,
between two countries that used to be tight,

Now cherokeeruby and Beefy are mad,
'cause they weren't in the poem and that's kinda too bad,
But cherokeeruby is hard to rhyme
and as for Beefy, I ran out of time.
with 500 plus posters on this page
If I could get to them all, I'd be a mage.
Sorry for the time this has used,
but I need to do something to keep me amused.
My poetic skills extend pretty much to "There once was a young man from kent, wh.............
Or for real class:

Twas midnight on the ocean not a street car was in sight. I stepped into a cigar store to get my self a light. The man behind the counter was a woman old and grey who used to peddle shoestrings on the road to Mandalay. She said good evening stranger, her eyes were dry with tears, she put her head beneath her foot and stayed that way for years.
The silence of the noise was great, the morning star was dawning, a dead horse galloped up and said I won't be home till morning. An axe came walking through the air, the clock struck 26, I turned my towards the skys and saw a flock of bricks.


I like to spend my life composing because I'm sure I'll spend my death decomposing.

Let's see if you like this one;

I sit on the grass that my cattle have mown,
And think about all the cows I have known,
Herefords, red with a pretty white face,
And Speckle Park with spots all over the place,
Charolais white and Belgian Blue,
And Shorthorns that come in every hue.
Highlands with big horns and coats so shaggy,
And Holsteins that are big, black, white and baggy.
Gelbvieh, Braunvieh, Fleckvieh and now,
If you didn't know 'vieh' is German for cow.
North Devon, South Devon and Tarentaise,
Sussex, Longhorns and Galloways.
And angus depending on how they are bred,
Can be Angus black or Angus red.
Welsh cattle Black and British White,
Limousins dark and Limousins light,
And of course, there's the Simmental,
Which is one of the biggest breeds of them all.
And so at the end of a very long day,
I guess I've run out of things to say.
And so in the last vestiges of light,
I wish you all happy ranching, and all a good night.
:clap: Really enjoyed your poems sorry you quit so early will check in on you again tomorrow night.
A follow up for Dun's rambling verse.

I ordered a burger without any fries,
Which put me to sleep and really opened my eyes,
I talked to my doctor who wasn't there,
Who left me standing in my underwear,
In a parking lot outside a bar,
And, oddly, I couldn't find my car.
So I chased a purple goose until,
I took a codfish from his bill,
Which I used to buy a big red hat
that a cow sat on and crushed it flat.
Then the wind grabbed it and as it flew,
I saw it turn from red to blue.
And as I lost it in the cloud,
I was standing in a field well plowed.
The plow was drawn by a sheep and cat,
And a little pig that was way too fat.
Again I saw the hat crushing cow,
And then it was me that was pulling the plow.
I pulled it across a barren land,
Then I stopped and showered with the sand.
Then the sun turned bright red,
And I woke up and was in my bed.
And I would of never thought that I was there,
Except for the sand in my underwear.
For CattleAnnie and the Canadians.

I sit upon my pastured plain,
and ponder if its going to rain.
I've got no gas in my tank,
And lots of notices from the bank.
I'd really like to get a fill,
But don't think I'd afford the bill.
I wonder if I'll make it through the fall,
Or if I'm going to hit the wall.
There stands my old boss cow,
Kind of bony and toothless now.
She'd have been down the road last spring,
If it wasn't for this 'mad cow' thing.
When Dad dealt in the U.S.,
Things were never such a mess.
Those boys would come and drink our beer,
And we'd take a trip there every year.
But now it seems we've been betrayed,
Cows unshipped and bills unpaid.
Nothing to do but wait and hope,
Spend no money, try to cope.
Maybe things will be more clear,
And hopefully better, come next year.

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