Episode 65

Three naughty calves, with wobbly knees and eyes so bright, Were always up to mischief, morning, noon, and night. Their spots were like dark patches, on coats of creamy white, And when they’d get a notion, they’d dash with all their might!

There was one called Buttercup, with a playful, flicking tail, She’d chase the busy butterflies, without a thought or fail. She’d leap and prance and tumble, through fields of green and gold, A whirlwind of pure mischief, a story to be told.

Then came Barnaby, the brave one, though brave might be a stretch, He’d try to reach the highest fence, a challenge he would fetch. He’d push with curious noses, at gates left slightly ajar, And then look back with innocent eyes, as if he’d travelled far.