BLAMM67

How many Smoots is that?

That was ChatGPT. I couldn’t write a limerick.

Yes, you may.

In fields where golden sunlight spills, The gentle cows roam free, With patient eyes and steady wills, They graze contentedly.

Their coats of black and white or brown, A patchwork on the land, They softly low as sun goes down, A calm and peaceful band.

In meadows green, they form a line, Their bells a tinkling song, With quiet grace and gaze benign, They move the day along.

Oh, humble cows in pastures wide, With nature’s rhythm true, In every step and every stride, The earth sings back to you.