The Contented Bossy

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Watercolor and Poetry from my Grandmother Williamson:

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The Contented Bossy

With morning milk safe in the pail,
I watched the cow swish, hard, her tail,
And mildly look as though she'd say,
"Now, I'm ready for my day."

I rubbed the bossy's ruby nose.
And marveled. at her graceless pose;
I stroked the brow that could. not frown;
I searched her eyes so soft and brown,

As through the gate she ambled, slow;
To pastures green, I let her go,
Then watched her, 'deep in clover, lie
Serene and calm, with half-closed eye;

The ever-present cud she chewed,
No sooner gone, than 'twas renewed.
Whether she browsed on hill, in glade,
Or rested quietly within the shade,

She seemed to be, where'er the spot,
Contented with her humble lot.
When lengthening shadows had begun
To tell us of a setting sun,

The bossy sought the barnyard gate,
And mooed to say she could scarcely wait
Until we came to take away
The milk and cream she'd made that day.

Then, having given us her best,
She'd lay down on the straw to rest,
To, placidly, again re-eat
Her food, and thus her day complete.

The cattle on the thousand hills
Are doing what the Father wills.
Do you suppose it's the reason why
They're more content than you and I,

Who fret with tasks upon our hands,
And fume about our house and lands?
To hold our wealth we have to scurry,
Yet. having none, the more we worry.

If, like our mulley, we'd be content
With what our Heavenly Father sent,
We'd do each task our very best,
And to His care leave all the rest.

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