Arkansas, a poem

Looking down stream from the high water bridge onBarren creek justbelow Grandma Dall's cabin at Rodney. Photo credit; Henry Blevins (my brother).

Looking down stream from the high water bridge on Barren creek just below Grandma Dall's cabin at Rodney. Photo credit; Henry Blevins (my brother).

Arkansas

By
Henry Blevins

With her rolling hills and mountains, canopied in seas of green
Pierced by fingers of dark rocks

Jutting into early morning scenes
Like waves soaring from seas
Her beauty is a sight to behold.

With her meandering rivers and streams, covered in soft mists
Gliding slowly through wide valleys
Creased with farms and fields of hay
Like pale dragons in semblance
Her beauty draws you to her bosom.

With her babbling creeks and springs, roving sleepily among giant oaks
Covered with long dangling vines
Wandering softly in pale light
Like gossamer threads afloat
Her beauty takes your breath.

With her lush meadows and glades, ablaze with flowers bursting with blooms
Bathing air with breathtaking fragrances
Drifting quietly through the noon
Like soft breezes afloat
Her beauty calls worry away.

With her rustic farms and havens, sheltered in shadows of ancient oaks
Alight with soft glows of fireflies
Drenched in perfume of fresh-cut hay
Like phantoms in dimness of night
Her beauty conveys great poise.

With her bullfrogs and crickets, aroused in twilight of evening
Reeling on darkened lawns
Dwelling in darkness singing their songs
Like an orchestra playing so fair
Arkansas, enchants the unwary.

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