Dexter John and His Wheelbarrow Nap
Dexter John, baby calf was tuckered, he had been playing all day.
He laid down in the Kansas grass, brown enough to be harsh hay.
His fifteen-year-old human cousins picked him up without a peep.
Placed him in a green wheelbarrow, comfortable enough to sleep.
His mother was comfortable resting her teats for a little while
The sun came out and filled the sky for a delightful country mile.
Dexter John snoozed loudly, his dreams of barley, oats and hay.
He was being weaned from his mother, and this truly was the way.
Bull Daddy came across his wife, with no calf youngster by her side.
Where is Dexter John? He snorted, for Dexter was his loin-filled pride.
He’s in the barn, taking a snooze, giving me a little breathing room.
When he gets ready for some milk, he’ll be back out, probably quite soon.
The teenage boys heard Dexter John bellowing for his tasty mother.
They gave him pats and set him on his feet and he ran to join his brother.
Why did they put you in the green thing? His twin asked, was it a dare?
It was not so bad, Dexter John replied. I napped. It was kind of fun in there.
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