We’re
hungry and we’re waiting,
Gosh, it seems the time of day
When our cowgirl comes to visit
With her gifts of grain and hay.
Our festive coats of red and white
Protect us from the cold.
We shun the comfort of the barn,
Our hunger makes us bold.
We’re hungry and we’re waiting
And we’re yearning for her praise
When she leads us on the scale
And our target growth she weighs.
Some people say we look alike
But that’s far from the truth,
As one is polled, the other horned
In our beauteous Hereford youth.
We’re hungry and we’re waiting
As the snow fills in our tracks.
The grass sleeps in a winter grave,
Depriving us of snacks.
Our markings aren’t identical
One has more white, you see,
But we’re on the same career path:
To replace the elderly.
We’re hungry and we’re waiting
But it shouldn’t be too long,
The sound of feed has pricked our ears
And soon we’ll hear her song.
We see her now and hear her words
Of bulls and summer sun.
“Eat hearty, girls,” she says with cheer:
At last our wait is done.
© 2009, Susan Matley
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
