Anyway, my point is that there were enjoyable moments on our hikes. One of those moments was getting to see all the wildflowers in bloom along the mountain trails. You would turn a corner and all of a sudden there would be a field just covered in wildflowers. So pretty! It was a writer's dream. So guess what...I have another poem for you guys! This one is for my dad.
Wildflowers
As I walked along
The mountain trail,
The rocks seeming an
Insurmountable barrier,
I stumbled around a
Corner, and before me lay
A glorious field of wildflowers.
They were flowers for which
I had no name, and I
Loved them all the better
For it. They were happy,
Unpretentious little flowers.
The juice of the sun had
Stained them a deep
Golden yellow, and they
Swayed and danced to the
Silent song of the gentle breeze.
Lured by their simple beauty,
I left the troublesome path
And walked among them.
As I wove a path
Through my golden little friends,
Something new caught my eye.
Stout stalks, precariously
Topped with a pine-cone of flower buds,
Stood stolid among the weaving,
Rippling meadow of gold.
These little clusters of blossoming flowers
Were blue, deep blue, the
Blue of the sea where men drown.
As the wind convinced my little gold friends
To sigh and dance merrily,
These little wonders oversaw the
Merriment as steadfastly as
Wise old widows.
My weariness from the long climb
Gone, I stooped to gather wildflowers.
Once the deed was done, I
Looked at my treasures,
Breathed in their heady, earthy scent,
And thought "This is Life."
