betty the cow: a sonnet

eyes closed a field of green lush green i see
blue sky one cloud like sheep a fluffy cloud
chartreuse lime emerald army and kelly
some trees a few or more but not a crowd

upon this field a pasture lived a beast
a cow brown cow one spot or two or three
where sun and snacks and playtime never ceased
we called her pretty "B" short for Betty

good foods massage maybe a big TV
the best for her and often that meant beer
a couch so soft perhaps some therapy
calm life, sweet dear; she'll live here for a year

mm, meat for us one day she will provide
we'll keep her though. ah well, at least her hide.

Poetry is not my calling.