Chicory Springs Farm Nigerian Dwarf Dairy Goats
FARM POEMS
an ode to farm finances….
by Jean Wilcox
I counted up the mouths one day
to see where all the money went.
Indeed at first it came to me,
but round about it all was sent,
for hay and corn and oats and seed.
Soon it seems it all was spent.
One mule, one goat, one chicken there,
now they’re running everywhere.
A great surprise it was to see
that there were 60 instead of three!
“How could this happen?” my heart it cried.
This hobby started just “on the side”.
But now it seems I’m over-run
by something that was “just for fun”.
The screen it squeaks, I’m met by brays,
All heads are looking for their hay.
Dishes, taxes, laundry chores,
they all must wait…
I’m out the door!
by Jean Wilcox
(This little verse was inspired after running 40 heifers thru
at the vet clinic where I worked.)
If you’ve never scrubbed a barn or two
with cows a plenty, here’s a clue:
Those high-up spots of green and brown-
Its very hard to get them down!
No matter if you’re short or tall
It’s surely stuck upon the wall.
It’s far beyond my reach you see,
because I’m only five-foot-three!
It sticks like glue, or like cement.
I wish it would instead ferment.
Buckets, hose, a brush and nozzle,
It’s enough to wear you to a frazzle.
Once again its time to scrub-
Now I’m headed for the tub!
The following were shared by Sonya Nordgaarden. Thanks Sonya for sharing your goat-inspired talents!
TIPSY POEM
TIPSY MY LITTLE WHITE DOE
WANTS ME TO DRIVE THRU THE SNOW
AND FIND HER A BUCK
BUT WE MIGHT GET STUCK
IT’S QUITE A LONG WAYS TO GO.
I FOUND HER A BUCK AT THE FAIR
ONCE I SAW HIM THERE
HE’S PROPERLY SMALL
WITH THEM BOTH IN A STALL
THEY’D GET THE JOB DONE, FAIR AND SQUARE.
THE ONE I WANT HER TO MARRY
LIVES IN THE WOOD OF CAREY.
SHE MIGHT HAVE TO YEARN
I KNOW NOT WHERE TO TURN
AT LEAST NOT THIS JANUARY!
THO THERE’S REALLY NOT MUCH TO IT
THEY’VE GOT TO “GET WITH IT AND DO IT”.
FOR BABIES TO GROW
IT’S RATHER SLOW
JUNE IS WHEN SHE’D GO THRU IT.
SO FOR NOW I HAVEN’T A PLAN
TO GET TIPSY TO HER MAN.
THE SNOW KEEPS FALLING
AND IT KEEPS US FROM CALLING
AND ENLARGING OUR LITTLE CLAN.
MID-WINTER BLAHS
I WANT TO SAY “HI” AND PAUSE
BUT I’VE GOT THE MID WINTER BLAHS.
FOR ME THE CURE
IS A PET THAT WOULD PURR
OR BARK OR EMIT “BABY BAAS”.
I KEEP WAITING FOR TIPSY TO “FLAG”
GIVE HER TAIL A CONTINUOUS WAG
THEN ONE FAIR DAY
WE’LL SLIP AWAY
TO A GOAT THAT’S BUILT LIKE A STAG.
SHE’LL THINK THAT HE’S REALLY SWELL!
AND I’LL WAIT AND I’LL NEVER TELL.
JUST “GIVE IT A GO”!!
THEN DRIVE HOME THRU THE SNOW
AND WATCH FOR HER TUMMY TO SWELL.
FIVE MONTHS, IT’LL BE QUITE A FEW
AS FOR KIDS, SHE’D MOST LIKELY HAVE TWO.
BUT TIME IS A ‘WASTIN!
I NEED TO HASTEN
HER ROMANTIC POINT OF VIEW.
SHE’S GOT TO BE “IN THE MOOD”
BEFORE WE MEET THE “MAIN DUDE”
SHE’LL WANDER AND STARE
AND SNIFF AT THE AIR
AND DREAM OF STUFF THAT IS LEWD.
THEY SAY GET A “BUCKY RAG”
WITH A SMELL THAT WOULD MAKE PEOPLE GAG.
WHAT WOULD MAKE US SHUDDER
WOULD SET HER AFLUTTER
AND SPEED UP HER ROMANTIC LAG.
I KNOW OF A BUCK THAT IS RIPE
THAT WOULD GIVE A SMELL FOR A SWIPE.
MY DAUGHTER’S THE WENCH
THAT COULD SWISH ME A STENCH
BUT “SHE’S SELDOM AT HOME!!” IS MY GRIPE.
“STINKY” CAN’T BE HER “MAIN SQUEEZE”
‘CAUSE HE’S TOO TALL IN THE KNEES.
WE’VE GOT TO GO IN THE CAR
TO A PLACE REALLY FAR
ON A MOUNTAIN, WAY BACK IN THE TREES.
THERE RESIDES A SMALL BILLY
AS A LOVER HE’S PROB’LY QUITE SKILLY.
HE’S AN AFRICAN PYG-AMY
WHO DOESN’T MIND BIG-AMY
AS A LOVER HE'S PROB'LY A DILLY
AND WELCOMES THE DOES WILLY NILLY.
My plan to get Tipsy “in the mood” so we can go “meet the dude”. 2/15/09