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