Ode to the Cow-dung

If there is one that I will not let go unsung,
'Tis the tradition of India, the bountiful dung,
The magnificent cow leaves its deposit,
'Tis a holy animal, ergo, 'tis holy shit.

An animal of the farm, the cud chewed,
Non-veg and oil, rightly eschewed,
Exits from its rear, by Nature's law,
The heap that Hindus hold in awe.

Strewn straw is what is you need to rake,
Into the dung you shall knead, then bake,
Throw into the hearth this lovely patty,
If you want your fill of coffee latte.

Alas, the days of the patty are long gone,
The human handling a dung is frowned upon,
But in some ways, the dung is better than old,
As Nature's fertiliser, it is bought and sold.