Listen to them cows beeling - Ayesha Chouglay commissioned by Lincolnshire Wolds National Landscape

Описание: British Sign Language version of Listen to them cows beeling by Ayesha Chouglay.

The colour change of captions denotes two different voices within the poem.

Listen to them cows beeling is a commission by Lincolnshire Wolds National Landscape, part of the Nature Calling programme which ran through 2025, the first national arts commissioning project for England's National Landscapes. Find out more about the programme at naturecalling.org.uk

Listen to them cows beeling - Ayesha Chouglay

their baritone peals softer than the auctioneer’s drawl, the man’s voice, God-like, more rap than the gavel

their market my Clapham Junction, lives set anew, long stick in hand, brolly in mine the Lincoln Red the soft tan of an Irish Setter, trees ice cream churning out the windows

and after, mud shod boots tramping the lanes of low hedges
the flat expanse the white of an egg spreading, roads the yolk, tarmac hob,

land feeding us on, mizzle blushing our faces
we vergers of the verges walk the lanes, parish to parish, hand to hand

mouth to cheek to say hello, food to mouth to say something of love, I buy tin foil chocolates for a party in Herne Hill, the fat of the meat will make your hair curl

Mickey and Minnie, the pigs slaughtered each year, magically grown anew, like teeth to the fairy, sermons are poems, fed from one mouth to another, chine, chime, chine

during the week we farm, I stare at the keyboard like a prayer, at weekends we cycle the lanes, I, Sam, preaching, the wooden angels look down upon us, I photograph their

faces, hidden up in the rafters, safe, an ex used to call me angel, biblically, love, they would be a whirl of eyes, my eye ploughs one furrow at a time, the

shire horses with their slow plod, time Softly settling, worked into, there’s something in my eye