Tags:
  • Emotional
    • wandawoman
    • Ilike all poetry, love to try writing poetry and short novels

    Cry

                                                                                             

    Don’t Cry For Me

     

    For I have watched the morning sunrise from the top of Utah’s tallest mountain,

    saw the early rays of first light paint the desert landscape with an incomparable beauty that cannot be reproduced with camera or paint brush on film or canvas.

     

    For I have stood on Montana’s sweet grass plains, felt the first biting north winds that can send the temperature plunging to 40 below. Saw the shining mountains of Glacier Park outlined against the blue skies, and breathed the purest air on earth.

     

    For I have traveled Idaho’s wilderness area, and marveled at the abundance of wild life to be found there. Saw lakes of water that are an azure blue that man cannot duplicate with paint mixtures, fed by streams of clear cold water that are unspoiled by man’s habits even today.

     

    For I have stood on the banks of Wyoming’s Green River and heard the cry of the wild goose as he winged his way northward to an arctic nesting area that was known only to him and his life mate. Traveling these many miles that their young be born safe and free.

     

    For I have traveled the highways and dim trails of Colorado in the fall of the year when the color of the foliage is unsurpassed for it’s natural beauty. Painted there for all to see by the master painter of all time.

     

    For I have stood on Oregon’s stormy coastline where the green velvet of her forests meets the angry blue gray waters of the Pacific Ocean. Wondered how many violent stories had been witnessed by the eternally angry surf, that seems to be always present there.

     

    For I have traveled the hot sands of the Nevada desert. Visited some of the ghost towns that were once inhabited by a hardy group of people, and wondered if they were possibly more content with the simple life that they led, rather than the more complex one that we in our wisdom had created.

     

    I have traveled Alaska’s wilderness area and marveled at the stillness so prevalent in the remote areas. As Robert Service described  it in one of his many writings of the alaska wilderness. (it’s a silence you most can hear). wild life to be found there. Is and will remain unequaled in any other location in the world.

     

     

    These things I have described to you exist for all to see. You have but to follow in my footsteps, with an open mind as I have, then you will also know that there exists a creative power that is far beyond our understanding. I have in my way lived a lifetime. Don’t mourn my passing, For I have enjoyed life to it’s fullest,

     

    Don’t cry for me.

    Wanda Stevens

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    wandawoman’s Poems (5)

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