It stands high
touching the clouds
clinging the heavens.
The spring always seem to hold
a new complexion ...
new hope.
The echo of machinery
hums till dust
inplanting the seeds 
for summer growth
--future hold.





The farm houses stands polished
as her flowers 
have begun to bloom.
Children of all ages 
are out to play
so much to do ...
to see ...
to learn ....
Unharvested fields --
cattle grazing ...
calves out playing.
A never ending cycle 
to amend
just letting nature 
take Her course.





Mid-summer holds such beauty
as sweeping wild flowers dance.
A carpet of green lush
rolls over the 
"Mountain of Seasons".
Such beauty 
has never been witnessed
grain the color of gold
has matured for harvest.





Shadow of fall 
is called upon
the fields 
have been left bare.
For cattle ...
harvests are tucked 
warmly inside.
The damn is deprived 
of running water
the ice has formed.





Winter plays bitterly 
into fall
white clusters begin 
its covering
upon the "Mountain".
White flakes of clusters 
has began to muliply
leaving no green to be seen.
Upon a cold frosty morning
the trees sparkle to a glisten.
Almost creating a 
winter wonderland
... a tiny village itself upon the
"Mountain of Seasons".





Life increasing 
in the huge red barn
just bursting for spring 
to arrive.
Season to season --
holds a friendly "welcome".
A certain love for the 
"Mountain of Seasons"
has begun to fade.
Flowers have not 
been planted this year
the yard stands quiet and empty
the joy of children have vanished.
Interest is suffering 
so silently and slowly
dawn to dust
day in and day out
of way back then has somehow
losts its gentle easy touch.





For the 
Mountain of "Green Ridge"
has no pleasure 
no fresh flowers to bloom.
So many long hours have been 
invested in such beauty.
One man is left to 
continue alone
for his father
needs this
his love to survive.
The "Mountain of Seasons"
life just has to go on
it must never die!





3 March 1987