The sheep that bleat the most give the least milk.
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Sheeptalk
there came out from the open Bible
in a corner of a field
all of the sheep
gave one triumphant bleat
their exodus complete
without them
the book had very much less to say
as a sheep without an udder
gone permanently astray
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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A sheep cannot bleat in two different places at the same time.
When My Voice Stops!
When my voice stops for ever
There will be no tumults of words ever.
The stars will still twinkle and rivers will still die.
When my voice stops I shall dive into your oblivion
And in another costume someone will impersonate me.
The hymns will still be heard and the fresh idols will surface.
When my voice stops a lone sheep may bleat
As it stands near the tender leaves aplenty.
I think it may bleat for a while and cease to do so thenceforth.
When my voice stops those who loved me once for a while
May shed a few drops of tears innocent
And I may turn on my tomb for a sigh!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Religious Nature
Why do you sleep when time has finished,
And cheese is a food for the sheep to make,
For the cheese asyouknow can bind you;
For cheese is recommended more than milk
And milk is what religion transmitted and given,
To forget and forgive the children say milk will be given,
As religion will thrive as regions of life can gain heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Until that time again we meet
I dream so, oh so, so high of ye
Night and the soul wilt rest
And raise me on an oncoming cloud
Aloft to my angel, my angel child
That winged my hearts flutters with joy
I wish to bring ye young one home
And clothe thy bones with flesh and blood
But all I have is gone, my seed in the grave
Ye have flowered and died in spring;
Our little winged soul is ye lost like sheep
When I count my dying prayers and weep
Don’t bleat child, don’t bleat!
In the holy meadow, sleep, sleep, sleep...
Until that time again we meet.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cot death
I dream so, oh so, so high of ye
Night and the soul wilt rest
And raise me on an oncoming cloud
Aloft to my angel, my angel child
That winged my hearts flutters with joy
I wish to bring ye young one home
And clothe thy bones with flesh and blood
But all I have is gone, my seed in the grave
Ye have flowered and died in spring;
Our little winged soul is ye lost like sheep
When I count my dying prayers and weep
Don't bleat child, don't bleat!
In the holy meadow, sleep, sleep, sleep...
Until that time again we meet.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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635 Milk The Elixir Of Life
MILK - One of God's preciuos gifts
For all who seek to live
Of all the food that passes lips
This has the most to give.
And when we from our Mothers feed
Her milk provides our every need.
The milk of cows and goats and sheep
Sustains us in our later life
An elixir before we sleep
It calms our nerves and eases strife
What is the secret of this stuff
Milkaholics just can't get enuff.
We know that milk is mostly water
There's almost eighty eight percent
There's protein - fat and carbohydrate
And calcium to give bones strength.
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day
It sure will help you on your way.
Full-fat milk makes ladies fertile
And it tastes much nicer too
Leave the skimmed milk for the slimmers
While you enjoy your creamy goo.
Jersey Milk has FIVE POINT THREE
Fresian much less - Oh dear me! ! !
Milk is a rich source of vitamins
A and D and E and K
Lactose gives our milk its sweetness
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day.
Drinking milk instead of coffee
Keeps you calm and much less stroppy.
Natural milk is prone to curdle
So we have to Pasteurise
Killing all the dee-dum-durdle
Homogenise and Sterilise.
When next in't Country - it's my vow
To drink my milk straight from the cow! ! !
Milk provides a range of products
Cream - Butter - Cheese and Yoghurt too
Without which life would be much poorer
No Camembert or Danish Blue.
When our palates we would please
We judge a country by its Cheese.
I'll sing the praise of English Cheeses
Cheddar - Cheshire - Wenslydale
Lancahire and Regal Stilton
From pastures lush in Leicester Vale.
Christmastime with Port & Stilton
In Terraced House or at the Hilton.
My 'Ode to Milk' is not complete
Without a mention of 'Best Butter'
'Farmhouse' from the pasture sweet
The taste? 'A Pastoral Ode by Rutter'.
And never let me utter words obscene
Unsaturated Fats and tatseless Margarine.
poem by John Knight
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Surroundings-24
Sheep In The Street
Clinking they lead flocked
Clinging they bleat starved
His hook stick tactic
Street trees swooped up trick
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Doe & Fawn
Spotted fawn on gangly legs
Born in the night, on forest floor
With silent bleat for milk he begs
Rite enacted untold times before
(To all the deer that live around our home)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Milkcow Calf Blues
(Robert Johnson)
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Well, well, you have a new calf, hoo hoo, and your milk is turnin' blue
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
[Spoken:] Now, you know that calf done got hungry
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
Well, now, but the milk is turnin' blue, hoo hoo, and I believe he's outta luck
Now I feel like milkin' and my, cow won't come
I feel like churnin' it and my, milk won't turn
I'm cryin' plea-hease, please, don't do me wrong
You can give-a right milk and butter, now, baby, you-hoo, will stay at home
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
She been troublin' some other bull cow, hoo hoo
Lord, in this man's town
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I love milk so much! I make a point of drinking a glass of milk every day. So now anyone who did those milk ads with the milk mustaches, they're my heroes.
quote by Natalie Portman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Sheep
Golly, mister, where you going? you'll be late for work careful or you'll drop your briefcase jesus, what a jerk there he goes down to the subway off to catch the train too bad for him he forgot
Umbrella poor mr. sheep you're wet mr. sheep walk on, mr. sheep walk on tell me, how's your little family? how's your little wife? are you going to live with these monsters for the rest of your
Maybe you got a little girlfriend stashed somewhere in town may be you ain't got a little girlfriend ha ha ha ha ha poor mr. sheep he's a lonely guy too walk on mr. sheep walk on dance, mister!
He's doin' ok oh, oh oh, he's all right let him get up by himself now i don't want to be too rough and i don't want to be too mean you're right - this world is awful tough i know exactly what y
An but i want you to know exactly how i feel and to tell you the truth right now i feel like going i feel like going baa baa mr. sheep careful, you're walking all over your own self now walk on,
Sheep walk on, mr. sheep walk
On, mr. sheep walk on
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepless
Its 5a.m and im up again
Sleepless nights they always win.
I lay down in the silence and darkness
Hoping for a sleep of bliss
I have tried it all,
From warm milk, pills to a stress ball.
Nothing seems to help alleviate
Not even alittle time to meditate
This is my curse from now till the end
For sheep to count its time to send.
Tossing and turning,
While my mind is still churning
Its hot no its cold
This feeling is really getting old.
Well now i feel i can slumber,
But screw counting sheep i forget the number.
poem by Taylor Knapczyk
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For the very best, drink milk from the goat, ricotta from the sheep and cheese from the cow.
A soft dropping April brings milk to cows and sheep.
Sheep
Sometimes I get so angry with the simple life they lead
The shepherds smile seems to confirm my fears
Theyve never questioned anything, theyve never disagreed
Sometimes I think they must have wool in their ears
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
When I was young they used to get me counting sheep
But the counting I did was all in vain
No when Im tired and Im trying to get to sleep
I count humans jumping onto trains
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
[influential guitar break]
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bit News
Donkey milk
Is...
Good for health...
This thinking for
South indian poeple's...
So...
New born baby
Given for donkey's milk...
I also drink for
Donkey milk at childhood...
My gran mother told for me...!
Donkey milk is for
Only at donkey...
But...
People idea is...
Donkey's milk is how is
Help full for human health...?
I don't no...!
Miss or mrs univers
Celeo patra also
Take bath for
Donkey's milk...
For his beauty...
It history bit news
How much true
I don't no...!
You know...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Cat with milk
My cat
Not drink milk...
For today...
Yester day
My cat was
Try drink hot
Of milk...
Hot was hit...
For my cat mouth...
Cat was did not cry...
Run away for hot
Milk pot...
So...
Today coll milk also
My cat did not drink...
O...
I am very soory
For hot milk...
Come to drink milk....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Sister Cat
Cat stands at the fridge,
Cries loudly for milk.
But I've filled her bowl.
Wild cat, I say, Sister,
Look, you have milk.
I clink my fingernail
Against the rim. Milk.
With down and liver,
A word I know she hears.
Her sad miaow. She runs
To me. She dips
In her whiskers but
Doesn't drink. As sometimes
I want the light on
When it is on. Or when
I saw the woman walking
toward my house and
I thought there's Frances.
Then looked in the car mirror
To be sure. She stalks
The room. She wants. Milk
Beyond milk. World beyond
This one, she cries.
poem by Frances Mayes
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In a distant land many years ago, there lived a black sheep. It was executed by firing squad. A century later, the grieving flock erected an equestrian statue in honor of the slain sheep that looked very nice in the park. In the years that followed, every time a black sheep appeared, it was executed so that ordinary sheep could practice sculpture.
Augusto Monterroso in The Black Sheep and Other Fables (1969)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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