Best Livestock Poems
Grandma, The Farm And The Silent Young Cat
Before soft golden rays the roses slept
Night, its slumbers had not yet bid adieu
From its barn perch the young, silent cat leapt
Upon the old farmer's empty brown shoe
And from the farmhouse, breakfast call rang out
Grandma had no time for late sleepyheads
In her sternest voice, she gave warning shout
"Up and at'em, all rascals out of bed"!
That ringing throughout the place came alive
The cat swiftly raced to the backdoor
Soon as it opened in it would dive
To chase away mice was its daily chore
Table set with coffee, eggs and pancakes
Surrounded by those hungry mouths to feed
So delicious like only grandma could make
Out we went to fed livestock and plant seeds.
Midnoon her roses glowed vibrant red
Each paid homage to life and mother sun
Decked around the porch and the old shed
Grandma watered them having such fun
That garden and her kids her pride and joy
She still agile and spry at eighty two
With sweet memories of her three young boys
Each new day she thanked the good Lord too.
Before soft golden rays the roses slept
Night, its slumbers had not yet bid adieu
From its barn perch the young, silent cat leapt
Upon the old farmer's empty brown shoe
And from the farmhouse, breakfast call rang out
Grandma had no time for late sleepyheads
In her sternest voice, she gave warning shout
"Up and at'em, all rascals out of bed"!
Robert J. Lindley, 6-29-2021
Rhyme, ( Those were the glory days of youth )
Note:
As was promised, I wrote this new poem today,
using the phrase, the silent cat leapt-as was noted
from the haiku in my new blog, title-
"The Image, The Inner Reaches Of The Mind"
Thank you, James Marshall Goff for noting it
as your favorite line of that poem….
I promised to write a poem using that phrase
and have now done so.
Categories:
livestock, art, beauty, cat, farm,
Form:
Rhyme
Everyone will be salted with fire. “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with each other.”
Mark 9:49?-?50 NIV
Salt once traded ounce for ounce for gold
To preserve food to not harvest mold
All humans and livestock need salt to survive
As the Queen bee is needed in a hive
Sending out pheromones to give guidance
As we shall hear when we dwell in silence
Let us become the salt of the earth
Absorbing the living water unto a new birth
That we might preserve His word
Coming together into One herd
As the spirit guides each of us in unity
To become a divine community
Each grain looks so tiny
But when coming together is mighty
How can we make salt useful again
By absorbing the the One who brings the rain
Categories:
livestock, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
The lowly turnip
Earthy, fleshy
Roots falling from its eyes
Fed to livestock
One of God’s root crops
Yet deemed untasty
By most palates
Carrots and potatoes
Receive accolades
Carrots in orange party dress
So crunchy and sweet
Fit in the school child’s lunch box
Potatoes in russet brown
Mashed, fried and frittered
Prized alongside McDonalds and Kentucky Fried
Do not despair, my friend,
Not all root crops
Are valued similarly
Said the rutabaga disparagingly
Categories:
livestock, judgement, silly,
Form:
Limerick
We got some visits from two gods of wind -
fall’s Notus and the winter’s Boreus -
One hot, the other cold; here’s what happened
when they arrived; it was not glorious!
The south wind, Notus, a destructive one,
consumed our crops and left us a small drought.
Old Boreas then, not to be outdone,
devoured our livestock whole and froze us out!
Unlucky Eurus did not come at all.
We really could have used his warmth and rain.
but we were glad when Zephyr came to call.
He brought the spring and lovely days again.
How sweetly Zephyr breezed in from the west.
We welcomed him as our most precious guest.
Source of research: Wikipedia/ Written Dec. 16, 2014
for the Gods of Winds Poetry contest of Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
livestock, wind,
Form:
Sonnet
He wakes as sun surrenders to nightfall;
emitting a haunting howl, he rises to prowl.
Bright amber eyes fixate on sources of nourishment.
Leaving his protected den in Yellowstone,
gray predator becomes the prey.
Just feet beyond the National Park
farmers shoot to protect livestock.
Defenders of Wildlife beg of Congress
“Stop the shooting!
Ensure the future of once-endangered wolves!”
Regal kings of the mountains and prairies,
nearly extinct in the ‘30s,
rebounded but are still vulnerable.
Their future rests in the hands of man,
a species that exterminates thoughtlessly,
posing threats to many of nature’s gifts.
Wild one, remain in protected areas.
Survive and thrive; extinction is forever.
Mankind’s death knell tolls for too many.
* Information on the gray wolf is provided by “Defenders of Wildlife,” a U.S. group that works to protect many endangered species. Each day we lose 25 to 150 animal species. Worldwide animal species extinction figures can be found at: http://www.columbiatribune.com/editorial_archive/q-how-many-animals-go-extinct-every-day/article_47bd1390-867e-11e2-8447-10604b9f6eda.html
*Written March 15, 2015
Categories:
livestock, animal,
Form:
Free verse
On the bank of the James River,
Virginia Colony,
a proposal was conceived to constrain the African fire.
The ploy, a real achievement in the West-Indian settlements.
In Rome, bodies were paraded along the byways,
to make a statement.
My Massa used ropes.
We dangled by our necks like roosters in a slaughter house.
When the pining for liberty was stirred up in the marrows of our bones,
we set ablaze a few bungalows,
and murder some dumb beasts.
The statement we made was called an uprising.
The fields were abandoned, the livestock ran wild,
and the slothful young mistress had to breast-feed her own child.
The scheme had the ingredients of breaking a mule,
and Virginia Colony was the first lab for creating fools.
A prophet’s blessing was given to the merchants,
and black diamonds were shipped;
they were purged of the soil of the mother land.
A new being was fashioned, dependent on Massa.
A man was set against his consort and his seeds,
and the whips wrote rules on our backs in their faces;
our pride drained from the gorges in our hides,
and respect slowly seeped from their eyes.
The bond was broken;
a ***** was concocted
without the spirit of Ghana, the Warrior King,
and the Ashanti, the pre-colonial backbone.
Should we not push as a woman in nativity for the renaissance?
Categories:
livestock, angst
Form:
Lyric
Miles of green lush grass;
Wide pastures full of livestock;
The country’s my home.
Categories:
livestock, animals, nature
Form:
Haiku
My uncle Dran was an odd sorta man
who never much cared for livestock.
But wouldn't you know he kept a pig he loved so,
and named the fat thing, Ham hock.
Of little he cared but for the pig's dinner fare
and a desire to keep him from block.
No butcher you'd see would stand a chance or a plea,
to separate Dran and Ham hock.
One day on a walk came a squeal and a squawk
as they passed a farmland flock.
As a sow named Bacon took to squalling and chasing,
to the delight of old Ham Hock.
Bacon was bought after a hard bargain fought,
she was Dran's hog for the takin.
And never could one part, the sow and the old fart,
know as Ham Hock and Bacon.
To this day down the lane, if you travel again.
there's a legend for books in the makin.
For the piglets o' plenty, of the pigs, Dran has many,
cause he won't eat Ham hock or Bacon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pink Domino Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
7/29/2016
Placed 10th
Categories:
livestock, animal, farm, food, pets,
Form:
Couplet
Muscles locked in agony
Every ligament burning
Pain flooding nerve endings
Labor
Heavy panting of breath
Heart pumping trying to keep up
Behind the canopy of human perception
Life and Death dance
On her knees pushing
Two women holding her
A third with hands out
Down, down . . . blood, sweat
Water – tears
A tearing and a swoosh
A boy, cover in blood
Cries into the wind
Life laughs with delight
Rachel in a panting whisper
Ben-Oni – his n a m
e
Dies
Death – laughs defiantly
Echoes across this luscious valley
Livestock pause from eating
Shepherds watch
Jacob climbs Migal Eder
Grief cries fill the valley
*** 1000 years later ******
A small wiry man from Moresheth
Deeply troubled
Spoke about justice
The coming of doom
But also of hope
Micah climbs – Migal Eder
Watchtower of the flock
Cries -- “Daughter of Zion”
Listen . . .
“Daughter of Jerusalem”
Hear my words
“Bethlehem Ephrathah
Small among the mighty clans of Judah
From within you
A ruler over Israel – a shepherd
From the beginning of days
Of ancient time
The restorer of Peace”
***** 700 years later ******
Too many people
No rooms
Tired, frustrated, worried
The pain . . .
Life and death begin to dance
She yells
J-O-S--E---P---H !!!!!
In the distance
A tower
Fire
“Hang on Mary”
Almost there
Panting prayer- Y a h w e h!!!
Father of this great hurt!
P – L – E – A – S – E
Release your son – NOW!!
Down
Upon her knees
A depression of earth
A pair of hands
Pushing with all her might
Gritted teeth, white lips pressed wide
A tearing of maidenhood
A breaching of flesh – blood burst forth
Within the blood – an infant
Relief
Cool air – Life dances upon the breeze
Death shaken, slinks away
Breast, milk, a swaddling
A mother’s love
Under Migal Eder
Watchtower of the Flock
Resting in a manger
Across the valley
A bright light
Music – “Glory to God in the highest . . .”
A new shepherd
A paschal lamb
J E S U S
Live and Love Generously
David Meade
12/19/2016
Categories:
livestock, blessing, child, dance, love,
Form:
Free verse
Wealth dreams of sunshine, as I gallop through fields,
welcome is the rain endless sea of amber it yields.
Through sea of fresh, clean, golden wheat,
new dried fodder stored for the livestock to eat.
I'm constantly told, I am a magnificent looking animal;
I'm a horse, which it's clearly understandable.
My owner pats me a few times, talks in a calm and soothing voice
to let me know that I can trust them; I still have a choice.
They brush me down removing thoroughly of dirt and mud,
brushing my mane and tail, until I'm a ravishing stud.
When all is done, they extend a hand placing a treat
close to my muzzle as I bubble in calm delight over my sweet.
3/8/2020
Categories:
livestock, horse,
Form:
Personification
Welcome to The S Laughter house
And lots of fun and games
Where everyone participates
To show that they are game
We’re well known as the funny place
Where beef, I mean cows go
Just get in line behind a friend
And please enjoy the show
We’ll unload your bags right away
So you can watch an act
And at the end when all’s wrapped up
You will be fully packed
See we’re so busy every day
It seems like a stampede
Of happy patrons, we will slay
Until becoming feed
What I really meant by that is
Until becoming freed
That’s the kind of laughs we get at
S Laughter House indeed
We also serve food all day long
Outside on the paddock
Which is beyond that dusty yard
Like that for prime livestock
We know our guests have a good time
Since they stay forever
Due to the fact we’re such cut ups
Which is our endeavor
Tell your family and your friends
Plus those that oink and bleat
For we’ll find plenty of room for
All those we like to meat
Categories:
livestock, animal, food, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Once glorious, but now rusting buildings, lined every dusty road.
Somehow everywhere clung the smell of cow dung.
My heavy bag, a giant rucksack,
Most of it I shipped right back.
I thought there wasn't much glitz or glamour,
And fought rough in a bit of a clamour.
Tuk-Tuk's going tut-tut, the hawkers piercing eyes and traders raise the price.
Welcome to Mumbai!
First, I met Tony, who promised to show me,
All the sights and sounds and where stuff might be found.
He exerted Rupees and expertly duped me,
But for a guided tour, I'd have expected to pay more.
My first "queue" for train tickets,
I was newly in the thick of it,
Could they organise a straight line?
They're walking on the train line!!
The infusion of livestock into the traffic,
My confusion and shock, all of this madness,
Each to their own, but, who the hell planned this?
But first impressions are often misleading,
Best get some rest, a wash and a feeding.
An open mind, that beliefs, often null and blind,
Just might find, can lead toward the fuller life.
From the mountains to the Thar desert,
Everywhere, I found was rather pleasant,
Lived like a king, paid like a peasant.
The colours everywhere and flowers worn in hair,
The spices on display and price you have to pay,
Surprises me to say, she'd grown upon me more each day.
And I had five months to travel through,
I bid a sad goodbye India, I'll see you real soon.
On scented breeze, she'd whispered to me,
As her saffron voice caressed my ears,
She hinted with ease and flickered desire,
While cinnamon curls lingered from her hair,
and nutmeg sweetened my dreams.
Categories:
livestock, travel,
Form:
Free verse
I was working for Jack Daymond, a farmer,
who farmed livestock, potatoes and vines.
I s’pose he had over two hundred cattle.
The spuds and the grapes grew in lines.
Oh gawd! Jack had me slaving ‘til sunset,
keeping his farm spick and span.
Jack kept his eyes on the produce,
while I was his cleaning up man.
And that meant me days were all busy,
spraying and killing off weeds,
grubbing out hundreds of tussocks,
before the darn thing set its seeds.
Sometimes old Jack was a good bloke,
he’d jump in with a fine helping hand,
and we’d spend our day in the paddock,
destroying the weeds on his land.
We were digging out plenty of thistles,
in the north paddock up near the creek,
and we worked like a couple of Trojans
clearing what should have taken a week.
Then a voice loudly filled up the air.
And it was quite menacing too.
A bloke in a suit was striding to us,
declaring his strong point of view.
“Mr. Daymond, I am here to warn you,
that I represent government’s need.
It appears that with government water,
that your quota you far did exceed.”
“I’m here to check your irrigation,
and make sure you’re not being unfair.”
Jack Daymond replied “Do what you must,
but don’t go in that paddock up there.”
The bloke in the suit became snaky,
standing over poor Jack with a leer,
“Don’t tell me where I can or can’t go,
See this card that I am holding here.”
“This card is a reminder to you,
I have authority over your land.
I am allowed to go wherever I wish,
have I made myself clear? Do you understand?'
Jack looked down at the card in his hand,
and knew there’s no sense to rebound,
so Jack nodded politely and joined me,
grubbing thistles from out of the ground.
It appeared that Jack had been beaten,
and in silence he’s taking it hard,
between thistles he gazed to the paddock,
at the bloke who had shown him the card.
But then a grin formed on his face,
we heard yelling like never before,
for the bloke in the suit he was sprinting,
and it’s something we cannot ignore.
Jack beat me on reaching the fence.
With the bloke in the suit in full flight,
and hot in pursuit was Jack’s Jersey bull,
with a look that was all sheer delight.
As the bloke in the suit got beside us,
with the bull behind him by a yard,
Old Jack cupped his hands and yelled out -
“Your card! Your card! Show him your card!”
Categories:
livestock, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Dark clouds loomed over the horizon
They broke loose in unprecedented force
Nature’s wrath, sudden violence acquired
It rained down as if unleashing all her fury
It was a downpour without one equal
The heavens let down dark misery for days on end,
Water bodies swelled and hollows filled,
Land mass slipped and trees fell,
The tame rivers looked fierce in spate.
Waves surfed and waters roared,
Like mountains they rose over the land,
Men in throngs were evicted from their homes,
Hundreds died and livestock perished
Such violence, never ever imagined
Helter-skelter, people fled for life.
Lands inundated and folks were marooned,
Homes were washed away with all belongings
Power failed and life had come to a halt
Rescue operations went on in full swing
But the deluge chanted the dirge of dying souls
Men sought shelter in relief camps
Epidemics broke loose and many died
Hospitals were flooded with ailing souls
Crops perished and misery prevailed
Havoc wreaked and penury struck
As Nature thus played her perfidious tricks,
Men stayed united and pooled all their might,
To regain for their land what had been lost
In a matter of months life was back to normal
It was a time that displayed man’s great resilience.
Categories:
livestock, angst, destiny, earth, rain,
Form:
Free verse
Except for the snow, it’s a monochromatic scene
The pond is frozen to a reflecting mirror finish,
In the fields there is not a speck of green to behold
Overall, the countryside is bleak in winter’s cold,
With clumps of sage punctuating the near pasture
The trees have given up their leaves in past autumn,
While a trickle of smoke is creeping up to a hazy sky
Onto the briery bushes an inch of snow has settled.
I can imagine the family gathered around a fireplace
The only vestige of warmth in the entire painting.
Livestock are locked securely inside a barn on the hill
All is serene in this landscape, though it elicits a chill.
written January 17, 2022
Categories:
livestock, perspective, seasons, winter,
Form:
Ekphrasis