What’s the Dun Cow doing on the Old Kent Road, <br />I’m wondering, when who should blow in <br />But this boyo wearing the moss-green gabardine <br />My mother wore when out feeding the hens. <br /> <br />Those beaks were taking it in turns to coax <br />Crushed oats from between her toes, her horny <br />Old toes covered over with sores, with the bunions <br />and warts that stuck out through her brogues. <br /> <br />So how’re they keeping? There’s rheum in his eye. <br />I had truck with them all – all the old crowd. <br />Yer da and yer ma, and the man in Dungourney? <br /> <br />Tucked up with their rosaries, they are, <br />Piled one on the other at home in Lisgoold, <br />Pushing up daisies for many the long year.<br /><br />Maurice Riordan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dun-cow/
