. 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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That's a great poem, and a great story about you and your family. My mom was a country girl, and my dad was a city boy! Grandma and grandpa had chickens and organic produce and flowers before organic was cool! I think our families would have had a lot to talk about! :)
ReplyDeleteA sweet poem Jim. I love the story of your mom and dad as well. You could probably write a lovely book about your family.
ReplyDeleteTruly lovely. Loved the transition the young city girl made to a placid life on the farm, defending her gift.
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem, "Queen of the cows" made me smile.
ReplyDeleteA pet cow. I want one!
ReplyDeleteSuper sweet! Nice to see you. K. (ManicDDaily)
ReplyDeleteGrowing up I helped summers on my grandparent's farm, one of my chores was walking the cows to pasture every morning and bringing them home in late afternoon ... I must say those memories rank high on my list of great times. I gave each of them a name (there were six) and I learned how to milk them. Watching milk being separated by my grandmother, turning it into butter and fresh rich milk ... doesn't get any better.
ReplyDeleteSuch similar memories we have, Jim (and Helen). Dad farmed the land, but Mother had her own chicken business. We gathered, cleaned, and cased four 30-dozen cases weekly. As I sat, busy with that task, I vowed to grow up and live in the city I still have fond memories of my childhood ... but not to do with the eggs!!!
ReplyDeleteI adore this piece. I would certainly never want my precious cow to go to market.
ReplyDeleteWonderful. Made me miss the ranch where my mother grew up in Colorado.
ReplyDeleteLove this poem, and it’s accompanying story, Jim.
ReplyDelete