The Bull


Lord of the pasture
majestically he surveys his domain.
Lips curled with passion,
he bellows his need
and chooses from many
the object of his desire.

Mounting with fury,
he plants his seed
and grunts his delight,
then ambles off to graze
in fields lush from rain.

What a life this bull has,
eat and make love
is his job,
next time I´m a bull,
I proclaim,
but then I remember
how the story ends,
hamburger and barbecue
is the name of the game!

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Bull

  1. Sumit Sarkar says:

    I can understand the bull’s feelings…
    very well written :)

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