As I thought it came to me
That cows don't simply grow on trees,
They're nurtured every waking day,
Some by grass, a few by hay,
Each one is born so young and small,
But soon it is so strong and tall,
For after constant love and care,
The cow can soon roam anywhere.
And just like cows there are some friends,
Who aren't easily replaced again.
So I just thought to email you
While gazing at the sky so blue,
Remembering my friends back home
Where cows instead of crowds do roam,
'Cause now I'm sure, yes it must be:
friends, like cows, don't grow on trees.
Todd Katter --- New York