My Dairyman
My dairyman is a crustacean of milk,
The crystals enjoined on him are like silk.
My dairyman is a soldier of liquid,
Once I grab the bottle I contacted.
Mine is the sword so much dagger,
I have abhorred the activity of an adaptor.
This is milk of the highest standard,
Drinking this fluid is best adventured.
Inside we speak so loud of the man with cheese,
Cheeses spend us with wine and abnormalities;
Actually us, actually us are fond of a distance,
The wincing happens with assistance.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Father Ranney, the Cheese Pioneer
When Father Ranney left the States,
In Canada to try the fates,
He settled down in Dereham,
Then no dairyman lived near him;
He was the first there to squeeze
His cow's milk into good cheese,
And at each Provincial show
His famed cheese was all the go.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
He always took the first prize
Both for quality and size,
But many of his neighbors
Now profit by his labors,
And the ladies dress in silk
From the proceeds of the milk,
But those who buy their butter,
How dear it is, they mutter.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
Now we close this glorious theme,
This song of curds and rich cream,
You can buy your hoops and screws,
And all supplies for dairy use,
Milk cans and vats, all things like these
In Ingersoll great mart for cheese,
Here buyers do congregate
And pay for cheese the highest rate.
So we call on you again aye,
To honor Father Ranney.
poem by James McIntyre
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Oxford Cheese Makers Song
When Father Ranney left the States
In Canada to try the fates,
He settled down in Dereham,
Then no dairyman lived near him.
He was the first there to squeeze
His cows milk into good cheese,
And at each Provincial Show
His famed cheese was all the go.
CHORUS.
Then long life to Father Ranney,
May he wealth and honor gain, aye !
He always took the first prize,
Both for quality and size ;
But many of his neighbors
Now profit by his labors.
And the ladies dress in silk
From the proceeds of the milk :
But those who buy their butter,
' How dear it is,' they mutter.
CHORUS.
Then long life to Father Ranney,
May he his health retain, aye !
Farmers now can not be beat
With their cheese and their wheat,
Though now their greatest care is
For to watch o'er their dairies ;
They carefully fill their mows
With provender for their cows,
And they thus enrich the soil
With much profit for their toil.
CHORUS.
We will sing this refrain, aye,
Long life to Father Ranney.
The motto, 'Union is Strength,'
Is carried out at length
In the most compact array
At every cheese factory.
You'll see without going as far as
There is one kept by Harris,
The factory of Ingersoll,
Just out at the first toll.
CHORUS.
May he never suffer pain, aye,
The father of cheesemen, Ranney.
Or you may go all the way
To see one kept by Galloway,
And out in the Norwiches
Dairymen are making riches;
And honor has been won
By Harvey Farrington ;
The same path is trodden
By folks about Culloden.
CHORUS.
May his strength never wane, aye,
The great dairyman, Ranney.
And of late we saw some
Very good cheese from Lawson ;
All around Mount Elgin
Dairymen have well done;
And out in East Nissouri
They make some scores a day ;
From Jarvis and Elliott
Some good cheese is bought.
CHORUS
And we will all remain, aye,
Indebted to Father Ranney.
Now we close this glorious theme,
This song of curds and rich cream,
Subject worthy of our muse,
You can buy your hoops and screws,
Boxes and vats, all things like these,
In Ingersoll, great mart for cheese ;
Here buyers all do congregate,
And pay for cheese the highest rate.
CHORUS.
So we call on you again, aye,
To honor Father Ranney.
poem by James McIntyre
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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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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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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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A bottle of wolf’s poison
At dusk little Martha walks
pass the back of the old house
that is build of heaped blue Jacob stone
and her older sister who has to watch her
is a distance away in the orchard
where she is catching small gnats
with shouts of joy.
The sun glows orange red
on the horizon and the rays hits
a brown bottle that protrudes
from one of the cracks of the Jacob rocks
and at a distance
it looks to three-year-old Martha
like her mother’s kitchen knife
and quickly she walks closer
on her little feet
and she tries to take it, but it is stuck tight.
With a long stick
she digs the bottle out,
bites it open with her small teeth
and there’s pink liquid
that flows down her throat.
Still she wonders
what this bottle is doing here
and goes round the corner
into the kitchen
where she finds her mother
and gives the bottle to her.
Her mother turns white from fright
as it is wolf’s poison
and deadly strong
and her shout is so loud
that three of Martha’s older brothers
run in from the outside.
“Go and milk one of the cows
and bring some more milk, hurry”
is said to Pieter
and she takes a bucket of milk
from the pantry
and pour some in a glass for Martha to drink
while Pieter runs
as fast as he can to the stable.
“Drink sis drink, ” Martha is begged
and glass after glass is given to her
until she starts to vomit
and still they beg her to drink
while they pour some more glasses of milk
and the pink poison
comes out with the vomit
and Pieter brings some more
fresh hot milk
and pours the jug out
and Martha shakes and cries
and they beg her to drink
and still more is poured into glasses
and she drinks
until she vomits the entire poison out.
[Reference: Wolf’s poison is strychnine.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dairy Ode
Our muse it doth refuse to sing
Of cheese made early in the spring,
When cows give milk from spring fodder
You cannot make a good cheddar.
The quality is often vile
Of cheese that is made in April,
Therefore we think for that reason
You should make later in the season.
Cheese making you should delay
Until about the first of May.
Then cows do feed on grassy field
And rich milk they abundant yield.
Ontario cannot compete
With the Northwest in raising wheat,
For cheaper there they it can grow
So price in future may be low.
Though this a hardship it may seem,
Rejoice that you have got the cream,
In this land of milk and honey,
Where dairy farmers do make money.
Utensils must be clean and sweet,
So cheese with first class can compete,
And daily polish up milk pans,
Take pains with vats and with milk cans.
And it is important matter
To allow no stagnant water,
But water from pure well or stream
The cow must drink to give pure cream.
Canadian breeds 'tis best to pair
With breeds from the shire of Ayr,
They thrive on our Canadian feed
And are for milking splendid breed.
Though 'gainst spring cheese some do mutter,
Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,
Then there doth arise the query
How to utilize it in the dairy.
The milk it floats in great spring flood
Though it is not so rich and good,
Let us be thankful for this stream
Of milk and also curds and cream.
All dairymen their highest aims
Should be to make the vale of Thames,
Where milk doth so abundant flow,
Dairyland of Ontario.
poem by James McIntyre
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The Logical Vegetarian
"Why shouldn't I have a purely vegetarian drink? Why shouldn't I take vegetables in their highest form, so to speak? The modest vegetarians ought to stick to wine or beer, plain vegetable drinks, instead of filling their goblets with the blood of bulls and elephants, as all conventional meat-eaters do, I suppose"--Dalroy.
You will find me drinking rum,
Like a sailor in a slum,
You will find me drinking beer like a Bavarian
You will find me drinking gin
In the lowest kind of inn
Because I am a rigid Vegetarian.
So I cleared the inn of wine,
And I tried to climb the sign,
And I tried to hail the constable as "Marion."
But he said I couldn't speak,
And he bowled me to the Beak
Because I was a Happy Vegetarian.
Oh, I know a Doctor Gluck,
And his nose it had a hook,
And his attitudes were anything but Aryan;
So I gave him all the pork
That I had, upon a fork
Because I am myself a Vegetarian.
I am silent in the Club,
I am silent in the pub.,
I am silent on a bally peak in Darien;
For I stuff away for life
Shoving peas in with a knife,
Because I am a rigid Vegetarian.
No more the milk of cows
Shall pollute my private house
Than the milk of the wild mares of the Barbarian
I will stick to port and sherry,
For they are so very, very,
So very, very, very, Vegetarian.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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The Logical Vegetarian
You will find me drinking rum,
Like a sailor in a slum,
You will find me drinking beer like a Bavarian.
You will find me drinking gin
In the lowest kind of inn,
Because I am a rigid Vegetarian.
So I cleared the inn of wine,
And I tried to climb the sign,
And I tried to hail the constable as “Marion.”
But he said I couldn’t speak,
And he bowled me to the Beak
Because I was a Happy Vegetarian.
Oh, I knew a Doctor Gluck,
And his nose it had a hook,
And his attitudes were anything but Aryan;
So I gave him all the pork
That I had, upon a fork;
Because I am myself a Vegetarian.
I am silent in the Club,
I am silent in the pub,
I am silent on a bally peak in Darien;
For I stuff away for life
Shoving peas in with a knife,
Because I am at heart a Vegetarian.
No more the milk of cows
Shall pollute my private house
Than the milk of the wild mares of the Barbarian;
I will stick to port and sherry,
For they are so very, very
So very, very, very Vegetarian.
poem by G.K. Chesterton (1915)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mattering
I matter to weaknesses in my life,
These craters of joy are misspelt,
Like the enjoyment of a planet,
As we saw all that exists.
Let the world enjoy us at last,
Losing some of us in wars and battles,
Skirmishers must never have us,
Skirmishers must dine on their lice.
To find the geese is to find matters
Of the food and milk we eat and drink.
This fluid is milk and we are milk,
Filling our stomachs from too many cups.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Malted Milk
(by robert johnson)
I keep drinking malted milk, trying to drive my blues away.
I keep drinking malted milk, trying to drive my blues away.
Baby, youre just as welcome to my loving as the flowers is in may.
Malted milk, malted milk, keep rushing to my head.
Malted milk, malted milk, keep rushing to my head.
And I have a funny, funny feeling and Im talking all out my head.
Baby, fix me one more drink and hug your daddy one more time.
Baby, fix me one more drink and hug your daddy one more time.
Keep on stirring my malted milk, mama, until I change my mind.
My doorknob keeps on turning, there must be spooks around my bed.
My doorknob keeps on turning, there must be spooks around my bed.
And I have a funny, funny feeling and the hairs rising on my head.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Santa Meets A Soldier!
It would not be surprising
if Santa Claus were real,
That he’d stop inside a soldier’s house,
And be emotionally struck I feel.
For what’s important to a soldier,
Is not worthy to be compared,
To whatever anyone else wants,
For his thinking will lay elsewhere!
While the world sees pretty packages,
All wrapped tightly with ribbons and bows,
The soldier only sees the bandages
On the injured both friends and foes.
If a soldier ever gets to sleep
It’s in a hole he dug himself,
Using entrenching tools he carries
On his green ammunition belt!
So Santa please just let him rest,
No milk and cookies you will find.
His mind dreams of vivid battles,
And how to avoid a claymore mine!
Santa, when he was just a lad
He thought not of what would be today.
And he never gave a second thought
Those guns would be real someday!
Inside the heart of every boy
Is a soldier to be loosed in war.
And he dreams of becoming a hero,
As he is today and so much more!
So Santa all those toys you brought
That put the pacifists in wild uproars,
But they shaped our American Soldiers,
And prepared their hearts for war!
Perhaps that soldier is dreaming
He's standing under the mistletoe,
And kissing the girl he was courting,
Before his unit was shipped out to go!
Please Santa let that soldier sleep,
In the corner down on the floor,
You leave 'HIM' milk and cookies,
And salute as you leave his door!
poem by Robert Edgar Burns
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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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Facts About Cheese
When the price of cheese was so low a few years ago that the
dairymen seriously thought of giving up the manufacture
of cheese and of selling their cows, we published the fol-
lowing lines and distributed them by the thousand :
Price soon will rise, though now 'tis low,
And brooks of milk will onward flow ;
Were it collected in one stream
There would be floods of milk and cream.
Mr. T. D. Millar has just secured, Sept., 1884, the first prize for cheese at the great
cheese fair at Amsterdam, Holland. They weighed over 600 pounds each, and were
manufactured by the Burnside Factory of Dorchester. The Galloway Factory is manufacturing
several cheese weighing one ton each. The mammoth cheese, alluded to in cheese ode,
was manufactured by Mr. James Harris, Ingersoll Factory. The Dnnn Cheese Factory, North
Oxford, secured first prize at the great Centennial Exhibition, but where all factories
produce such excellent cheese perhaps it would be making invidious distinctions to specify
the honours won by any particular factory. The West Oxford Company have recently built a
fine factory on the Culloden Road.
poem by James McIntyre
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Bottle Of Red Wine
(by bonnie bramlett and eric clapton)
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
You hear what I say?
Gonna love you anyway.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I went to an all-night get together
And everyone I knew was there.
Had the love that would last forever.
Everywhere I looked, I saw you standing there.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
I said get up right now, oh oh.
I said get up right now.
Feel so bad this morning; got a terrible headache in my head.
Do me a favor, baby, do me a favor please.
Please get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up, get up; get your man a big big bottle of red wine.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pint of Thoughts
I found a sour pint of milk,
Flashing and smiling like an act of money.
Five hundred tubes of milk, sweeter,
I purchased from the provider of happiness.
They were thoughts, greater thinkers make,
Like those philosophical creams always pondered.
I found the sour pint of milk,
And used it for thinking purposes,
Drinking it whole, for nobody,
For the first time.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Blue Wonder Power Milk
I wonder why
I feel inside
A red green light
But I can enjoy
Blue wonder power milk
I wonder why
I feel inside
A red green light
But I can enjoy
Blue wonder power milk
Custom-made eyes open wide
Custom-made eyes
Open and dive
In wild-molten wine
Wild-molten wine
Wild-molten wine
She saw me talking with this double chin girl
Felt repulsion only I could enjoy
Amazing discoveries
She used to drink blue wonder power milk
Romantic carpet
Spread it out
To find solutions
Lots of doubts
Romantic carpet
Soaked with
Soaked with wild-molten wine
Wild-molten wine
Wild-molten wine
Can I be your ...
Can I feel your ...
Can I see your ...
(repeat til the end)
(thanx you very much)
song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Cleopatra the Queen of Beauty
Cleopatra the queen of beauty
had the softest of skin,
Enticing Anthony
into a lovers spin
Alas a rash suddenly
covered her slinky body
A physician cried
‘Oh my God the only cure is a bath of milk
To bring your skin
back to the feel of silk
A servant set off
on a fast camel train
With milk galore his trip
was not in vain
The bath was prepared,
“Your majesty I have your milk
did you want it pasteurised? ”
“No up to my chin will do”
poem by Ken e Hall
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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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