There is something about an ox

What is it about an ox?

That makes the heart light

That makes the soul glad

What is it about an ox?

It can’t be his beauty

Nor his grace

Certainly not his bright intellect

Nor his pretty face

It’s not his pride

Nor his personality

And he is not made to ride

or work occasionally

But made for labor, built for work

To, walk along beside his mate

An follow his teamster’s every thought

And do it first rate

Could it be his tilt of head

The plainness of his look

The bond of his yoke fellow

Or the quietness of his pace

The eyes which follow one about

The readiness to work a problem out

The slow and patient way he has

Or the willingness to either work or stand

Could it be the way they watch

When you are near the pen

Or drop their necks and backs

When to the work they bend

No pride in these

But a humble race

Bony backs and

Clumsy gaits

What is about an ox?

That fills a man with thoughts

And dreams of better ways

And think, what is it about an ox?