The tiny calf was born
on a stormy winter night–
a heifer–and I named her Clementine.
The winds still raged next morn.
The new calf’s good appetite,
Papa said, was an encouraging sign.
I wondered though if she
would live, she was very small.
The storm stopped and the sun peeked out to shine.
Clementine grew to be
a long-legged calf by fall,
a leader of the herd and superfine!
c Copyright, 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols
(Note: This poem is in the Kerf form. 12 lines in four groupings of 3 lines each with syllable count of 6-7-10 and a rhyme scheme of abc, abc, dec, dec.