My Home

My Home


The city has its buildings,
Some seem to reach the sky.
Visitors look up in awe,
Not often knowing why.

City streets are loud and jammed,
Their volume doesn’t drop.
Taxis’ horns and buses’ fumes,
This country boy yells STOP.

My home has its mountain tops,
And they do reach the sky.
They climb right into the clouds,
God made them that is why.

Visitors look up in awe,
God makes my sky so blue.
They wonder at the eagles,
As they soar into view.

My valleys are so peaceful,.
And empty at first glance.
But soon you hear the bird’s song,
And see the mule deer prance.

My rivers run fresh and pure,
The air is crisp and clean.
It might take your breath away,
The vista is so green.

Diamonds fill my skies at night,
The wolves sing me their song.
I reach out to touch the moon,
Sleep comes before too long.

The morning sun awakes me,
I rise, my spirit free.
A new day lies before me,
Its wonders fore to see.