Cattle Trails

In the land where the Black Angus are born, the cattle trails are deep and worn.

I yearn to smell the sweet summer grass and watch as the birds fly on past.
Over yonder is where the windmills pump and the jackrabbits thump.

In the land where the Black Angus are born, the cattle trails are deep and worn.

I love how the cacti flourish in the sun and the cows nourish their young.
The acres of alfalfa soak up the sunlight and o’er the hill the big mule deer fight.

In the land where the Black Angus are born, the cattle trails are deep and worn.

Joy is watching the butterflies flutter in the air, and the creeks run downstream with care.
Tall is the sagebrush and the grass is green and lush

In the land where the Black Angus are born, the cattle trails are deep and worn.     

    My spurs make a constant jingle while the cattle graze and mingle.

What I would give to breathe in the Nebraska pollen and listen to the bulls a’callin’, but my trusty

old steed and I had to say goodbye to the land where the Black Angus are born, and the
cattle trails are deep and worn.

Cattle Trails is written by Robin Ferguson, a small town girl from the Sandhills of Nebraska. Read more about her on our Authors page.