Tag Archives: poem

Western Hills

A hill, out West, grows lanky and lean, No soft grass on it, no flabby green, Sun-tanned, wind-wrinkled, leather-skinned land, Tough and wiry as an old cow hand. In lonely silence it rides the range, Day in and day out, without a change, Watching over sagebrush, keeping stray Live-oak trees from wandering away. From dawn […] ... More


Now is the drifting time when the leaves blossom, The sun of chrysanthemum in the soft blue sky. Slow dawn and hasty sunset seal the heavens. And a sleepy moon is there as the day goes by. ... More

Watching Water

The emerald surf cascades in churning cream; The sea beyond is silent: in a dream Part colored by the moving wave and sky, And part by shadowed cloud and burning sun, And part by where the buried centuries lie. ... More


Caged fountains through the starlit summer night Have tender voices, like a mother’s song, Or like a passing flock of birds in flight, While some the measure of a tune prolong As though their waters held a lover’s voice That whispered of delights the moon could tell. … ... More