The Brood Mare Waits Poem by Patti Masterman

The brood mare waits, beside the stream
The stallion's approach, sniffing the air;
Together, they're a breeding team,
And they take their time; nobody's there.

They meet each year, come springtime's green
And mate together, each to each;
His seed's too thin, or she's too lean,
An offspring's something they can't reach.

But one year, the stallion approach the hill
And is astonished there to find,
The brood mare, with a little filly,
Who looks to be his very kind.

With two white spots upon her head,
And long lithe legs, and well spaced eyes,
And by her mother's urging led,
And so they say hello, goodbye.

Each year thereafter there's a new
Colt or filly, beside the stream,
The stallion gets introductions to,
So all his children, he has seen.

And soon the fields are full of all
The offspring, that were born to them,
Many horses, strong and tall;
All were born, by her and him.

And so a lineage comes to grow
By fits and starts, and overcomes
The force of nature, which might sow
The strongest seed, of only some.

And now their children's offspring too
Enjoy the hills and streams and fields;
And never knew the young mare who,
With her stallion, made such yield.