Long Dairy cow Poems
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They came over from the barn as quickly as they heard.
They were going to be stern. I laughed and said “absurd!”
Two backed down quickly, Uncle Nick and Cousin Peter.
My grandpa backed up and away, about two centimeter.
We came to tell you to stop your wild women ways.
We want you to be your utmost self, no more carousing days.
You need to settle down like your mother and the rest of the herd.
I threw back my head, laughing. “I will never be your kind of nerd!”
They huffed and they coughed, and they glared at me hard.
They forgot for a minute I take after my Daddy, Milard.
He heard the commotion and came up to give them a word.
Stop being so bossy, he told them. Your aggression is totally absurd.
I get my love of life from my dad, and they should know that by now.
They went back to the barn in a huff. Nick kicked over a sweet dairy cow.
Why do they do this? I asked Daddy, who rolled his eyes into his head.
They are from your mother’s side, he started to say but quickly shut up instead.
For mother was standing there listening to us hard with her ears.
She was the kind of wild thing that made those three bosses always appear.
They could not control me, she said to me, after I met your dad.
So I got it from both sides. I am big, brassy, bold, beautiful and bad!
Holly did not communicate with people in a social way.
They interested her in almost no capacity, but cows fascinated her.
She decorated her room with cows, and she studied all their breeds.
This is how her parents learned to communicate with her.
Is this a dairy cow? Holly would scoff at their questions.
That is a Charolais, she would tell them, using her monotone voice.
What color is the Black Angus? She had no tolerance for this.
She did not understand teasing or a sense of humor.
The oldest recorded cow was forty-eight, right?
You know she was, and her name was Big Bertha.
When did she die? Sepember 29th, 1993.
Holly grew up knowing all kinds of facts about cows.
She knew the difference between Belted Galloways
and Wisconsin dairy cows.
Cows have panoramic vision, she would state matter-of-factly.
They can see almost three-hundred-and-sixty-degrees.
She invented many machines that aided in milking cows.
An improved milking machine with a gentle touch.
And she invented a musical score that helped them relax to milk.
Her genius was well-known in the Midwest, she knew her cows.
Fido
I took Fido out for a walk
I knew that the neighbours would talk
His ears stood up proud
His breathing was loud
And his teeth were like big lumps of chalk
I bought Fido only last week
From a bloke I met down by the creek
Although he's quite massive
He’s ever so passive
And even with cats he’s quite meek
I tied him up outside a shop
He got in a bit of a strop
He pulled on his rope
The shop couldn’t cope
And collapsed on an off duty cop
I walked Fido down past the school
Why are kids always so cruel
One dunderhead chided
‘That thing should be rided’
You can’t educate a damned fool
We called on the mother in law
He piddled all over her floor
She mopped up her Lino
Said, ‘There’s one thing I know,
A dairy cow couldn’t pee more.’
I left feeling guilty of course
Saying Fido was full of remorse
‘Fido!’ She said,
‘You’ve been misled,’
And, ‘That’s a strange name for a horse.’
Watch out below!” shrieked the interloping crow.
Ronald scooted back, but it landed on his toe.
Pardon me, said the whippersnapper extraordinaire,
But you have to admit there is something weird in the air.
Ronald was miffed, but older, experienced and wiser too,
So he merely dusted off his oversized foot that was blue.
What kind of a crow are you? The youngster asked to his face.
Teen ravens were never this bold; it would be a disgrace.
I am not a crow, the raven said, puffed up and irritated now.
Below he heard the bellow of a pregnant-in-labor dairy cow.
The farmer headed toward the barn, his due as it was his land.
Raven tried to ignore the youngster, but it was dancing on his hand
“Excuse you!” Raven said, and gave the crow a disgusted glance.
The crow was full of enthusiasm, doing a watusi on this branch.
There are other trees, Ronald pointed out as brazenly as he dare.
“Speaking of the weather, there are storms in the east, over there.”
“Speaking of the weather!” Ronald said. “WHO was doing THAT?”
They were now being stalked by SheShe, the world’s best climbing cat.
She almost got the crow, but unfortunately, he finally flew away.
So Ronald sat irritated, in a bad mood, the rest of the boring day.
How many times do I start to quickly and easily reply
To a comment and realize with a humdrum of a sigh
That it has become part of a poem insisting to be let out
So I hurry to a blank page, and throw it down with a shout.
And how many times do I stare at this stuff
And wonder where it has come from, it’s sordid and gruff.
Is there a monster residing inside my pea brain?
One who will not release me until we reach the refrain.
But I am no songwriter, you protest as she takes over your head.
Hush little baby, she says. Commandeers and is bossy with pencil red.
You are irritated beyond reason, but aggressive she is in charge now.
How many of the rest of you have a muse who is a strong dairy cow?
We are in North Dakota, on Highway 94, and we spy Salem Sue
She is standing thirty-eight foot tall, and the sky is relatively blue.
We are thrilled to see her, standing there, in her dairy cow clothes.
She makes us feel optimistic, that things will get better, as everyone knows.
Fargo Theater, ninety-years on March 18th shut temporarily down.
We were disappointed to find this out. It gave us a bit of a frown.
For I had been counting on it but then I spy the badlands up ahead.
Painted in lovely beiges and pinks, they are so poetically wed.
I received a buffalo nickel at gift store, and that made me feel good too.
In North Dakota these pretty souvenirs are generously given to you.
I spy a meadowlark, and remember that this s North Dakota’s state bird.
Drive many miles without seeing another car, seems kind of absurd.
Painted Canyon in Roosevelt’s National Park cannot be missed.
A dainty wild prairie rose gives impression she has been kissed.
Buffalo and cowboys we see and we happily giddily point out.
Yes North Dakota is the place to be. So consider this my shout out.
Grow tropical fruits here, near where I live,
harvested, immediately, travels sixteen hundred kilometres south
Then returns on that long journey finally stacked on supermarket shelf
name themselves The Fresh Food People, not so fresh , now inside your mouth
Family farm days amongst beef and wool ,one jersey cow for daily milk
goad her in, lock her head inside a bail
Sit ourselves upon a stool, clasp each hand around a teat
gently squeezed, squirted milk, to fill a ten litre metal pail
Transferred inside to kitchen bench could drink fresh milk if immediately desired
On dairy farm aged sixteen, observing milk collection styles
Twenty four hours gets to factory ,they claim its fresh, not me. We've been taken for a ride
Don't support commercial farming, grow my own,visit local markets
Lots of fresh to fill up several wicker baskets
Seek out real meaning of fresh, buy only what fills the wellness bill
nothing's fresh, if you're lined up to pay at the local "supermarket" checkout till
The only milk that's ever really fresh is what's taken, directly from the breast
Lie beneath a dairy cow, get your face right down close to it's udder
Let me know if you are satisfied with your experience and if the cow enjoyed you as a guest
Footnote: Excluded all dairy almost 50 years ago. Am now always feeling rather Fresh !!!!!
Samuel P. Jingo was destined to be the king of kings
The color of a skunk or dairy cow, we called him Jings.
He kept saying he did not mean to pull the sword from the stone.
It was an accident, something he had done, all alone.
The town would not hear of anyone else having the honor.
Although the reindeer wanted the crown, especially Donner.
Jings was worried, and kept saying that he needed a sign.
He is full of integrity and honesty, this cousin of mine.
The day of the coronation God sent cherubs from heaven.
They brought in some treats, some lox, bagels and leaven.
We know you have been selected and by the very best.
They said as they helped Samuel P. Jingo get dressed.
This was the sign my cousin had been waiting for.
He put on that crown and he strutted out the door.
The religious men gave him a speech and a prayer.
I admit that I am thrilled that I could be there.
Time and Change
There's an old abandoned farmhouse I passed the other day,
With broken down old stockyards and a shed of rotting hay.
Thistles growing cornfield high among the citrus trees.
The fowl run all but fallen down with grass up past your knees.
Horses grazing by the house, bring a nostalgic smile.
This farm once loved and cared for, made someones life worthwhile.
A blue wren flits from twig to twig, and along the veranda rail.
The pensioned off old dairy cow, will never again see a bail.
The mailbox a yellow rusty fridge, standing by the road.
A fence of wooden posts and wire that no longer take the load.
With busted gate on rusted hinges, a windmill with missing sails.
And there a tank and water trough, with split and broken rails.
Now that old abandoned farmhouse, will one day turn to dust.
Becoming part of all around, in change we place our trust.
If daily grind wears you down and you think you’ve had enough.
Remember change is constant and to fight it makes it tough.
Hard times we know will take a toll and slap one in the face.
Then nature sends a caring hand to keep us in the race.
The rain will green the fields, clear the air and turn the dirt to mud.
Give that pensioned off old dairy cow a fresh and tasty cud.
The shadows in the afternoon stretch across this little glade.
As the sparkling sunlit brook, disappears into the shade.
And I wonder if one will see in a hundred years from now,
There'll be another farmhouse, another horse and dairy cow.
Or crowded streets and buildings with people rushing to and fro
Concerned with things to do today, and worry about to-morrow
Whatever will become of it one thing is for sure,
Time moves on and brings the change, that's what time is for.
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