Calf Poems

Marshmallow and Scarlet

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.

Thought you took your woolen scarf

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

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 selfie

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.

Tony and His Calf

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.

Calf and Boy

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 Bathes In a Pail

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.

Did You Say Calf

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.”

Calf

a young calf
                                 
                                          kicks up its heels....
                                              
                                                         thanksgiving for life

Sorry Baby No Milk Today

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

Hoping For Sound of a Calf

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

Her Quiet Charm

Gentle like the tender touch
Of laughter, joy, hope
Her eyes are soft, so kind
Like a mellow whisper of calm
Serene and flowing with warmth

She is big, a giant of a girl…
Large boned and silent
Quiet as the night, just before
The raging of a summer storm
Pelting rain and winds
Bursting across the hills
Roaring gales and downpours

She is wise, a little reluctant
Hesitating, just on the verge of
Bellowing, she falters, listening
To the nuzzling of her calf
Her little youngster, so affectionate
Just a whimper and his mother
Comes running, protecting, defending
Her motherly instinct, intensive

Gentle like the lemony sunshine
Stirring spirits to listen, to hear
The echo of glorious rainbows, birdsong
Coloring the skies in reflections of peace
Her coat is burnt orange, like a sunset
And she breathes life through nostrils
Inhaling and exhaling the miracles
Stirred to life in the dust of a barn
Where her tenderness is rewarded
With grain, corn and fodder, her gift
For gracing our hearts with such quiet charm

White Buffalo Calf Woman

Mysticism brought the white calf into our tribal village 
She had a pre-plotted destiny, which we were aware of
Thanks to the wise women and wise men of council fires
She chose a young squaw as her own protector
The girl’s name was changed by the tribal elders
She is now White Buffalo Calf Woman.
We recognized immediately that she was the chosen one.
The calf knew what he was doing.
He had been alerted about her healing powers prior to arrival.
Ethereal goodness surrounds them both.
Grown now, they are inseparable.

Walking In the a Rain

Walking in the rain


I am going out
in the gentle summer rain
remnants of a storm
to feel the drenched cotton fabric
of this threadbare shirt cling onto me like a sheath
smell the parched earth suck in the season’s first rain
Please come with me

We will paddle about, cautiously though
not to mash too many snails into the grazing lands
watch the muddy waters slide along the footpaths
where the scum of earth hangs temporarily on the grass
to be phased out with time

Yesterday’s swelter
that cooked up this serving in cumulonimbi pots
has been extinguished, savour the coolness
as I indulge myself in the sweet brutality
of the pure rain, breaking a taboo
sogging my dreadlocks in a wash that’s true
through and through

but if a stray bolt of lightning strikes
and the ensuing thunder vibrates under my feet
I will stand petrified, vulnerable as a wounded calf
with a pounding heart, I will mouth an uncensored prayer
I need someone then to stand right by me.

Would you feel used, if that someone was you?

Life On the Farm

Living on a farm is never boring
There are cows to milk, bulls, steers, calves to feed
Pigs to slop and chickens to peck the dust
With guineas moving around, exploring
Chasing turkeys through the musical lead
Dance must

Enlightening their lives through adventures
Naught is as soothing a silence, a must
Ensuring life brings contentment, indeed
Knowing we will learn from misadventures
God’s just





The Speaker Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
October 20, 2020

• Short Calf Poems
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• Calf Quotes