City and Country -- a Poem for The Sunday Muse # 127

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She milked the cows;  

   he farmed the land 

She was a city girl, young 

on her first job 

They had met before in a 

neighboring town 

The girls all knew, "stay away" 

from that fast town 

She went there anyway, met 

her future man 

Married, this city girl young 

cried the first night 

Not accustomed to farm life 

there by themselves 

Barely knew a pig from a horse  

she'd learn a lot 

Husband was beside himself 

gave her a calf 

The calf wasn't like her cat 

it stayed apart 

Never sat in her lap but 

stayed in corral 

Sort of a pet but still its 

future uncertain 

To market when it was grown 

or milking cow 

Please a milking cow begged 

this city girl 

Keep it they did, calved and milked 

called her Blackie 

Blackie still her pet corralled 

with other cows 

Knew her name leader became 

"Queen of the cows" 

Blackie loved this city girl 

she loved her cow

A country girl became, they  

love their pet cows 

  _ _ _   

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Chrissa at The Sunday Muse * 127 for the picture inspiration prompt at http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/09/weve-got-cowsand-footnotes-muse-127.html?m=1 

 - Before I started high school I was in 4H and had a Brown Swiss calf as a project.  Dad kept the calf, soon named Brownie, as a milking cow.  She gave a lot of milk and had good feeding calves, he kept her for a long time, probably until she died of old age.  In high school, as an FFA project for my last two years each I raised a litter of pigs.  Those pigs, 8 and 9, became farmstead pets who followed us around. 

  - And my mom was a city girl before marrying Dad.   She was away in Lincoln, Nebraska, working as secretary for a state legislator.  Dad share cropped on one of his father's small farms, half of all the crops went to Grandpa until he died and Dad became its owner.  They were married for 67 years until Mom died.  She raised the chickens and took care of the egg production.  She also milked cows until I was age five and took her place.  She was Dad's helper from husking corn to slopping pigs.  When they retired they, having purchased a home in town, moved to it.

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Water and Stuff ~~ a Poem for Weekly Scribblings # 38

Clouds, Stuff, and Us

Here we sit 

Under Joe Btsplk's clouds *

Spilling rain 

As it goes round and round 

On a leash 

It's mother tightly holds 

Hurricane 

Storm Beta is her name 

Some will flood 

We think it not be us 

Abandoned 

Cars by the roadside sit 

Sixty-nine 

The year was bad for us 

Thirty-three 

Inch water in our house 

"All just stuff"

That's what the wet are told 

Not quite true 

Memory jogs ruined 

Time it takes 

"Just stuff" to get regained 

Joe Btsplk *

Please move your clouds along 

Reminders**

We will miss them ever 

  _ _ _ 

  - Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

  - I'm linked with Rommy at Weekly Scribbles # 38,  https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/09/weekly-scribblings-38-helping-string.html?m=1

  -"for our ... Weekly Scribblings, [Rommy] would like us to write poetry or prose inspired by the thought of “things meant only as a temporary or hidden support.”" 

  - Notes: 

   * Joe Btsplk was an unlucky man in the Lil' Abner comic strip who constantly bore a raining cloud over his head.  {Google images here)

  ** When our house flooded with Tropical Storm Claudette in 1979 our most treasured ruined stuff was the most of our photographs from over the years.   We lost more, all of our furniture, three cars, and a motorcycle.  The house but not the furniture were insured.  

       Mrs. Jim, Adi Beagle Dog, and our daughter, age five, and I left by a high window in one of the bedrooms.   Also we have moved from that house and it flooded twice more for new owners.  They had been advised.  It might be flooded again today, 9-22-2020. 

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