Poems & lyrics celebrating Kansas Flint Hills land & people by Annie Wilson – the “Flint Hills Balladeer”
Daisy the Bottle Calf We all loved little Daisy when your Daddy brought her home, a precious tiny orphan calf that you would call your own. She was frightened in the barn and so beside her you laid down ‘til she was sleeping sound.
Her big brown eyes were dreamy and her lashes long and full. Her legs were thin and knobby with their tiny little hooves. Her coat was soft and silky, and it smelled like prairie hay. She leaned in close and shut her eyes as you brushed her every day.
She grew fast on the milk you fed her every morn and night. Your 4-H leader helped you learn to care for her just right. Your voice was low and serious as you coached her for the fair.Then she’d pull your wagon round the barn; we’d always find you there.
You and Daisy practiced at the fair for hours and hours.You washed your little Daisy ‘til she smelled just like a flower.
When it came your turn to show her, she was good and didn’t budge. You answered all the questions while you smiled at the judge.
The next year Daisy grew to be a heifer with the others, and in another year we saw that she became a mother. We’d walk out to the pasture and see her with her calf. She’d step out from the herd and amble over for a pat.
We still pass by your ribbon on the wall in your old room. It makes us smile and think of Daisy’s year she spent with you. There’s just something ‘bout a little kid out playing with a calf, that never fails to warm our hearts and always makes us laugh.
You and Daisy - round and around you’d go, a busy little pair of pals, both of you on the go. You’d lead her round the driveway. She’d pretty well lead you back, and when you were done, you’d give her a hug, your sweet little bottle calf.
Hear this song at tallgrassexpress.com/ daisy-the-bottle-calf.
Contact Annie at tallgrassexpress.com/ contact
