The best season of the year
when one lives on a ranch.
And as seen through my mother's eyes.
A poem by Enes Stringam . . .
All things bright and
beautiful,
All creatures great and
small,
All things wise and
wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
God planned to make things new
and bright,
That's why He made the spring.
When birds and creatures
everywhere,
Their sweet new babies bring.
Bobbi Cow, some years before,
Was born on icy ground;
Froze her tail and ears right
off,
Before the calf was found.
We called her Bobbi...family
pet;
She had a fearsome face.
Now she and I were bound here
in
An anxious, awesome race.
All through winter, cold and
dark,
Mother creature’s bellies grew.
Embarrassed, but a little
proud,
I blushed for mine did, too.
All of the cowboys' bets were
on,
As to who would win the race;
The boss' wife or Bobbi Cow—
The milk cow on the place.
One by one, the days groaned
by,
As I suffered all their cheer.
"Bobbi Cow will win,
you'll see!
Her time is very near!"
Every day I stroked her side,
Lamenting the ways of women.
She switched her tail and
tossed her head,
Her only thought was winnin'!
On that night, I tossed and
turned,
There was no thought of
resting,
Within the womb, the baby stirred,
The time had come for nesting.
We fired up the
four-wheel-drive,
Just at the crack of dawn,
With wheels spinning and sparks
a-fly,
The mighty race was on.
Each of us was sure she'd win,
The adrenaline flowed all day,
Me, in the delivery room,
And Bobbi in the hay.
Bobbi, then, received her cue,
(The same as her archrival,)
Urged on by a wildly cheering
crew,
As they watched her calf's
arrival.
And in the bright delivery
room,
I pushed with all my might,
Afraid the babe would not be
born,
And choke to death this night.
My hair and gown were soaked
with sweat,
My strength began to fade,
And then one last colossal
push,
Out popped our howling babe!
Then, suddenly, the race was done,
But who really cares who wins?
As I cuddled my darling baby
girl,
And Bobbi licked her twins.
There were no losers, only champs,
It was a tie, you see.
A miracle and a Mother's love,
Transformed the cow. And me.
Bobbi and I declared a draw,
Both wiser and both thinner;
The light of love shone in our
eyes,
Each one of us a winner!
Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we three besought,
To try to make the week begin,
With gentle thoughts--perhaps a grin?
Now post our poems for you to see.
And when you’ve read what we have brought,
It's warm!
Come back next week for fun,
Come back next week for fun,
When all three welcome Mr. Sun!
Such a sweet poem....the story of life's arrival. So, next weeks topic is Mr. Sun? I sure hope we see some before then.
ReplyDeleteThat's what I'm hoping. That if we write about him, he'll appear! It works with my toddlers...
DeleteIt's not hard to see whose daughter you are when you show us your mother's poetry and other writings, Diane :)
ReplyDeleteEchoing Delores - such a sweet poem!
Mr. Sun, eh? Ooooo I'm going to need my thinking cap :)
I LOVE being compared to my sweet Mama! Thank you!
DeleteAnd Mr. Sun peeked out from behind a snowstorm just as I was trying to dream up a new topic. Blame him! :)
This is truly lovely.
ReplyDeleteThank you, EC!
DeleteA beautiful poem with such a wonderful personal connection. I believe your mother and the cow were both winners too.Weekends In Maine
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Karen! I think so, too!
DeleteThat's a sweet, sweet poem. I love babies. Of all kinds.
ReplyDeleteThank you, River. I'm a baby hugger as well! :)
Delete