A Wooded Glen- another poem from my father.

[Prisoner_Number_Six]

He described things our family actually used to do when I was a child- just forty five years or so ago it really WAS a different world. To MY way of thinking, a BETTER world. Much better.


A WOODED GLEN

Come, let’s stroll to a wooded glen
On an early summer morn’
As sunlight breaks through the mist
And a brand-new day is born;
The plaintive call of nightbird yields
To woodfolks’ noisy chatter—
They let us know it’s their realm
And is a private matter!
The pathway that we know so well
Now we can hardly see,
For the buttercups and violets
Have concealed it gloriously!

The distant barking of a dog
Calls cattle from a hill,
And contentment of the peaceful scene
Brings an inner thrill;
As we walk along bemused
We are taken by surprise—
Around a bend a forbidden scene
Greets our startled eyes!
A mother deer with timid fawn
Grazes peacefully in the dell,
Were they aware that we were here,
It would break the magic spell!

Then suddenly a blue jay screams
Resentment at our intrusion,
We look again, the deer are gone—
Was it an illusion?
The sun breaks through, sky turns blue,
As we approach the edge—
A few more steps to the road,
Then jump a clump of hedge!
As happily we head for home
And the sun warms the glist’ning sod,
Our hearts are high because we’ve been
Near to the throne of God!

Original work written by Clarence W. Hessler
© 2007 Steven A. Hessler
All Rights Reserved

[Bjornsdotter]

1. Lovely, simply lovely

...I could visualize everything.

:toast:

[wildhorses]

2. i think i would have liked your dad.

thanks for sharing his stuff.

[The Straight Story]

3. Awesome my friend

Simple and beautiful.