A baby calf dances elegantly, forgetting gallop, highly intentional, jumping, kicking, light movement, nurtured obey parents,quick rider, small try, unique valour, wondering xanthic, young zeal.
My ancestors believed witches had magic
My ancestors worshiped a golden calf
I'm embarrassed, such folly is tragic
I shake my head and have to laugh.
Today between females and males there are no lines
We say we can surgically change either side
We can power our cities on wind turbines
And Israel's guilty of genocide.
We can always squeeze more from the rich
We know there's always money to burn
No hurdle, no obstacle, no hitch
40 trillion debt, no need for concern.
So we're so much smarter than those shepherds in the rocks
They worked for their money, thought nothing was free
Fought off invaders, and tended their flocks
Could they have been closer to reality?
I have no beef with your God
(unless it's The Golden Calf)
who they may say
works in mysterious ways
but I take umbrage at those who claim
to speak on his or her behalf
and here's a laugh
'No graven image' was handed down
yet they're here there and everywhere
all over town
Tears streaming down
Rains soft token
Imagine how I was found
To have magic'ly woken
In the streets of
This rainy town
Peering up above
Knees on the ground
Passed by unseen
Or avoided
Where have I been?
Dreams distorted
The street noises
The smell of pain
And suffering
mingled voices
Polite and feign
Time stuttering
Unwilled choices
To keep living
To one day die
Still believing
Above the skies
Whilst all the while
Living lies
No one dies
No one dies
I hear the cries
They've made me wise
We'll do this again
When next we sleep
In the next rain
Our souls to reap
her Scotland calf was a lovely color
I call him Marshmallow, she told us
Her parents had not named him
she thought this was a mean oversight
Her name was Scarlet and she was lovely
with her little white trainers, and her winsome ways
Her smile lit up the meadow, enticing the flowers to grin
She was a beauty with her bouncy ponytail
Marshmallow loved Scarlet too
He watched the house and ran when he saw her coming
They were a team, two kindred spirits
most did not realize they had met in heaven before arriving here.
Meredee returned to the house shivering from the cold.
I thought you took your woolen scarf, said her Grandma Bold.
I did, she said, but her teeth were shaking, her fate sealed.
Look here grandma, said her daughter, staring out into the field.
Outside was a tiny Scottish calf, with woolen scarf around his neck you see.
I had to protect my baby Doug, said Meredee. He needed it more than me.
What is the little calf studying? We asked Farmer Blue.
Don’t ask me, his university college is down in Kalamazoo.
Always looking in those financial books, unsure why,
Says he might wander off to become a corporate guy.
Calf takes his nap around three, come on by.
He likes having a selfie, though I know not why.
So, I took a close up, and saw his nostril hair.
Calf did not like it, but I did not care.
On a warm August day we sent Tony out to see his pet.
Found them snuggled up asleep. Loud snoring? Oh, you bet!
We left them there for a couple of hours enjoying the sight.
Two happy babies, enjoying the day, it felt so right.
Russian calf felt a kinship to the two- legged boy
He snuggled up next to him on the old railroad fence
The boy reached out and gave the calf a gentle pat
They would grow up together, cow and boy
Eventually cow and man; still close, forever friends.
Baby calf takes his bath in the pail no matter what
Nearly taking off his chin in an “upper cut”
Because his face is too large, and his petootsie is too
I can hear him trying to get out, he has a loud moo.
I was a record producer and a star-maker.
The call came in on a Tuesday, a deal-breaker.
The wife cannot come, but can you sign a calf?
I thought I had heard him wrong, but not by half.
Did you say calf? I asked the guy named Larry McDad.
Yes, he said, she is the most gorgeous one we have ever had.
I was now confused. A bovine? A cow? A mooer?
Yes, and I promise, I will scrape up all of her manure.
“I am a record producer,” I told him. “Does this calf sing?”
“You are a promoter,” he told me. “This baby has zing.”
I made the appointment for the very next day.
He was right. This little beauty promptly blew me away.
She started out with “over the rainbow”
and she was as good as Judy had ever been.
She sang six more songs just as well,
and we put her back into the pen.
“How do I pay her?” I asked Farmer McDad.
“she likes straw and feed,” he said. “Does that make you mad?”
“And you get a percent?” I guessed right away.
“Yes, “ he agreed. “She can start singing today.”
a young calf
kicks up its heels....
thanksgiving for life
come here baby
have a drink
have a drink
oh wait a second.
Mama made a mistake
get away get away
cannot do this today
Their horses seemed to understand the need for silence
They stood still as the cowhands searched the terrain
Hoping the sound of the lost calf would come in the wind
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