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‘Feeding Bobby Calves’ ; ‘Is there a poet in you?’ ; ‘Tropical Dawn’ by Nancy Byrne

August 23, 2014

The first three of her seven entries into our poetry competition:




It’s that time again, dairy cows are birthing

Calves are dropping night and morning

Feeding new born calves is one mad race

Tired and cold the farmer’s wife

Looks tenderly at each confused face.

She grips a calf between her legs and thighs

Gently pushes his face into the warm fluid

Her milky fingers submerged, touching his mouth.

She smiles as each one learns to suck

And quickly guides it to false udders.

The last victim struggles, wanting mother

She pleads and coaxes the little one

Refusing to follow what the others have done.

In sheer relief she straightens her back

Daylight has gone, how quickly its flown

She muses as she trudges home

Each little calf has a character its own

Her mother heart softens for calf and mother

It must be agony missing each other.

Think positive now and just don’t worry

Like the seasons that come and go

Calving time and bobby calves

Just one of them in the yearly flow of

Birthing, growing, living and dying

But I guess I’m human and do feel sorry

For little bobby calves and their destiny.






There is a poet or poem in everyone waiting to be released

in song, dance, love, laughter, thought, word, sorrow even disaster,

Life is a kaleidoscope of colours and passions, longings

for true love and empathy when things go wrong.

Trouble strikes family and friends and all seem lost in

the tapestry of life, it’s not the end!

Deep down in the living soul springs a search for faith and hope

to lift them above the shadows

The fight for survival and success that surely

TIME the great healer softens and shares the load.

Like a ray of sunshine in winter’s cold

A cool breeze on a summer day

The hidden poet in man comforts him in thought,

audible or written word, vocally in heartfelt song.

The poem never dies, lives on in whatever form it is expressed

Touching those walking life’s highway carrying a basket

of mixed emotions, scars that lighten but never fade away

Tokens and souvenirs, a chapter of life to tell others about some day.

Yes, there is a poet or poem in you, waiting to be set free

To share, to bless, to comfort or to cheer.




The sound of the waves so soothing

Bare feet gripping the sand, tide receding

Piercing the morning stillness he heard

The call of the mating kikau bird

Mesmerised he stared entranced, feeling free

Red morning sun mirrored in the calm sea

Sunshine filtering through the trees

Orange hues tinting the foliage blue

Palm trees gently swayed in the breeze

The scent of white ginger flowers so sweet

In wild abandonment he began to dance

Gliding over the sand into the red water

Crystal clear spilling through his fingers

Gazing at the sky he breathed in deep

Tropical dawn the night wakes from sleep

Sun rays touching heaven kissing earth

The wonder of a new day giving birth.




© NANCY NINA BYRNE [Woodville]


From → Competitions

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