heat wave
withered corn stalks
lawns thirsting for water
livestock too tired to stand up straight
send rain
The basilisk, that feathery serpent, shalt zeal and mealy diners shall burn the fat livestock until englutted but this arrowhead does not deter unless one such valiant god strums that homage to be paid in ringlets, like golden peaks that drip flaming golden wax, the climb is taxing but preeclampsia is not unmatched.
lay down with lion
Ireland livestock
Australian Shepherd
fleecy fluffy flocks
super soft t-shirts
lovely babies
born in the spring
Amish afghan
Mennonite wool
Montana
New Zealand
Australia
wooly
coarse haired
lamb
Norman’s snowman decided to hit the road
he was disgusted by his current frosty abode
I am leaving tonight at eight, he told Norm and me.
He said he was heading toward Livestock, Tennessee
I heard later that he melted along the way
His parts were scraped off the sixty-seven highway
We had warned him not to go, begged him to stay
Let that be a lesson to you Norm said to his new snowwoman, Kay
From Des Moines to Kansas City wind tunnel sideways
sixty-two miles per hour in a straight line always
a fierce super tornado that roars down Interstate thirty-five
throwing farms up in the air, livestock no longer alive
a quintessential tornado, dreaded and rare, a derecho
there truly was no way to hide, no places to shelter or go
a memory of terror that would last three states forever
many torn up families returning to home, never
a deadly derecho is what many do not survive
a terrifying experience up Interstate thirty-five
affecting Missouri, Kansas, and Iowa that day
the horrors of that creature forever here to stay
How many flowers is Whimsy wearing today?
This was said in a cheerful way, merry and gay.
I have no idea, but she looks pretty of course.
This was agreed upon by the sheep and the horse.
Whimsy was the pet of the barnyard, friend to all.
They loved her happy disposition, she lived in one stall.
The livestock kept her safe, the cow fed her fresh milk.
Today she was garbed in a plethora of flowers, most of them silk.
Lariat light rope hemp leather corded twined
My mission here on the parried to unwind
In my strength I shoot my shot
I let go lasso catch tether livestock
Running noose circles the neck
I am the long arm of the law
I'll rope the moon, the sun, the stars
And ranger and ranger or stranger
I confess I'll address the
Getty Ap horse, gonna rope me
Buttercup, Clarabelle, Molly, Rosie, Gertie, Henrietta, Nellie and Moo
I'm a Lariat Cowboy YaHoo-
02/17/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
A farmer's day brings both worries and joys
Every day he sets out to check his livestock ,Rex staying close to his heel. There they all are scattered throughout the field. His keen eye spots something amiss. A mother cow is slumped low on the grass ,her little calf no longer with her. Controlling his panic ,he examines the fence until he comes across a gap ,big enough for a calf to slip through but denying that opportunity to her. Looking over the fence, he spies the calf munching merrily in the next meadow. His snap of his fingers sends Rex racing through the gap to bring the calf safely home to be happily reunited with its relieved mother, and he then plugs the gap with boughs from a fallen tree.
A young calf missing
The worrying search ends well
Rex saving the day
I have found a map for you my pal Mary Lee said
I was excited, because she has great ideas for me
but can’t we go together? I asked her.
Not this time, maybe the next one.
Three naysayers said there must be something wrong
Why wouldn’t she want to go? It might be a trap.
I knew my friend would not steer me on a wild calf chase.
I ignored their negativity; as I always do.
Mary Lee stayed home with her livestock
and I set off, with a trusty sidekick, Merriweather.
Merriweather adores everything about me.
She builds me up and chases unkind people away.
Two of the naysayers sent me mean texts.
Warning me that this might be a trap.
I did not find the fountain of youth this time
But Merriweather and I got closer.
And I remembered why I cut naysayers lose.
I blocked both of their names and numbers.
Knowing my life would get easier.
And it did.
Down in a little stable on what seemed an average morn,
Amid the sheep and cattle there, a little Lamb was born.
Destined to be a Savior to a world in frightful need.
Now laid within a manger where the livestock all would feed.
Behold the Lamb of God, come now to save us all from sin.
The One to fight the battle and from death our souls will win.
Behold the little Child who will one day carry a cross.
The Shepherd we’ve been waiting for to save all who are lost.
The shepherds from the fields would come to bow before the Lamb,
Astounded to be witnessing their God come as a Man.
But they had heard the angels singing out in choral praise
To a Child in a manger. Truly wondrous are God’s ways!
A star so brightly shining several wisemen use as guide.
A long time will they journey just to kneel down at His side.
And bringing kingly gifts of frankincense and myrrh and gold
They give them to the little Lamb foretold by seers of old.
Now, look into your hearts whom He saved from death and sin.
And contemplate your living, do you try to follow Him?
Then take some time to think about this humble little Lamb
Who is the Lord of Glory now come down to us as Man.
The nudging to kill farm livestock off
Is resulting in vetanarians in the U K
Leaving their vital posts.'
No more to add, this government is
Beyond sad.'
May this year overflow with joy,
May all dreams and wishes be fulfilled,
May the sun rise high
And shine on every corner,
May its rays reach every valley,
May its light spread across every stream,
And may you too rejoice in this new year.
May this year overflow with joy,
A joy like summer rains filled with peace,
That nurture the growth of every seed where they are planted,
That water the trees and crops until they bloom and bear fruit,
That rescue the earth struck by drought,
That fatten the livestock in the fields and save them from famine,
May it rain upon you too.
May this year overflow with joy,
Not like the past one that burned with fire,
A fire that destroyed fields and crops,
That brought famine, sorrow, and wailing,
May this year bring rain to extinguish all those flames,
May it rain and settle the dust so you do not stumble,
May your eyes be opened so you do not lose your way,
May you continue to live with hope,
And never forget the reward at the end,
May it rain upon you too.
He knelt upon dry dirt
A farmer raised his eyes.
Dear Lord, I can’t go on.
My land is a dust bowl.
My livestock pass away.
I beg—Please Let it Rain.
Tilling the fields ‘neath a hot blazing sun
Removing the weeds when the rain's pouring down
Baling the hay in the heat and humidity
Breathe the dust of the chicken coop, abject humility
A farmer’s right proud of his livestock and crops
He tends them and serves them ‘till the day that he drops
They were all out standing in their field
with an ass or two and a few moose
along with a stray Canadian goose
when someone let the Appaloosas loose
not a welcome sight nor pretty view
while the moose who cud did slowly chew
the well-trained colt did not bolt
or even buck to shuck us
the goose didn't give a honk or hoot
but the asses kicked up such a ruckus
and if mushrooms you have half a mind
to seek (not the magic kind of stalk)
be aware take care of where you walk
as there by the end of the week let me remind
the field was knee-deep if not chock-a-block
with what the livestock left behind
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