Light verse is not greatly respected in literary circles but poetry, like Heaven, is a house with many mansions so there's always space to be found for a skittish sonnet or hilarious haiku.
My ten-line poem rhymes outwards from the two central lines.
SHE DIDN’T UDDER A WORD …
Some friendly overtures fall flat.
How now brown cow! I called out loud
and rapped the gate but was ignored.
How now! Again, with dulcet tone,
I importuned the brindled beast,
expecting, well, a moo at least
but she was on her moo-bile phone,
an i-phone zombie in the sward,
so I cleared off, expression cowed,
denied the chance of bovine chat.
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