Monday, April 27, 2009

My First View of a Western Prairie

This is an example of the beautiful poetry of Eliza R. Snow a Mormon Pioneer authoress. She wrote quite a few pieces of poetry, several of which were turned into songs (one of my favorites is "Oh My Father," a very touching piece).

My First View of a Western Prairie
by Eliza R. Snow

The loveliness of Nature always did
Delight me. In the days of childhood, when
My young light heart, in all the buoyancy
Of its own bright imagination's spell,
Beat in accordant consonance to all
For which it cherish'd an affinity,
The summer glory of the landscape rous'd
Within my breast a princely feeling.
Time's Obliterating strokes cannot erase
The impulse, with my being interwove;
And oftentimes, in the fond ecstacy
Of youth's effervescence, I've gaz'd
Upon the richly variegated fields,
Which most emphatically spoke the praise
Of Nature, and the Cultivator's skill.

But when I heard the western trav'ller paint
The splendid beauties of the far-off West;
Where Nature's pastures, rich and amply broad,
Waving in full abundance, seem to mock
The agriculturists of eastern soil;
I grew incredulous that Nature's dress
Should be so rich, and so domestic, and
So beautiful, without the touch of Art;
And thought the picture fancifully wrought.

Yet, in the process of revolving scenes,
I left the place of childhood and of youth;
And as I journey'd t'ward the setting sun,
As if awaking from a nightly dream,
Into a scenery grand and strangely new,
I almost thought myself transported back
Upon the retrograding wheel of time,
To days and scenes when Greece presided o'er
The destinies of earth; and when she shone
Like her ador'd Apollo; without one
Tall rival in the field of Literature;
And fancied then myself as standing on
That towering mount of truly classic fame
That overlooks the rich, the fertile, and
The far-extended vales of Crissa: or
That in some wild poetic spell, of deep
Unconscious recklessness, I'd stray'd afar
Upon the flowing plains of Marathon.
But soon reflection's potent wand dispell'd
The false illusion, and I realiz'd That I was not inhaling foreign air,
Or moving in a scene emblazon'd with
The classic legends of antiquity.
O, no: the scenery around was not Enchantment.
'Twas the bright original Of those fair images and ideal forms,
Which fancy's pencil is so prompt to sketch.
Instead of treading on Ionian fields,
I stood upon Columbian soil, and in
The rich and fertile state of Illinois.

Amaz'd, I view'd until my optic nerve
Grew dull and giddy with the frenzy of
The innocent delight; and I exclaim'd,
With Sheba's queen, "One half had not been told."

But then my thought--can I describe my thoughts?
No: for description's liveliest powers grow lame,
Whenever put upon the chase of things
Of non-existence; and my thoughts had all,
Like liquid matter, melted down, and had
Become, as with a secret touch, absorb'd
In the one all-engrossing feeling of
Deep admiration, vivid and intense.
And my imagination too, for once
Acknowledg'd its own imbecility,
And cower'd down as if to hide away;
For all its powers had been too cold and dull,
Too tame and too domestic far, to draw
A parallel with the bold grandeur, and
The native beauty, of the "Western World!"

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Bloggy Awards

I have been so blessed through the friendships I have made through blogging. Catherine is one of those good friends that I have met through this medium an dI am so greatful to have met her. She is one of the most thoughtful and creative people I have met and has been a big support to me.

These awards are good ways to recognize our friendships and share a few of our favorite bloggers with others.

Blogging Brings Us Closer Award- From Catherine

“This award recognizes connections and friendships that come about through blogging.” I pass on to…

1. June at 70 Plus and Still Kicking, her narratives of life in Australia are well done and informative. She is an excellent story teller (soon to be published...). :D

2. Star at Star-Forever-Young. She is weaving excellent stories that bring to life history, mystery and even current happenings. She is also a charming story teller (I particularly like her story about bunnies).

3. Nara at In Search of a Greener Tomorrow. Who's excellent photography brings India to life for his readers. Plus he cares about the environment... what other reasons could there be? Oh yeah he's a fun friend to have!! A funny guy. :D

4. OverUnder AKA The U at Any Way I Have To: U is a unique guy, really thoughtful. I have just discovered his blog and find his thoughts on the world to be helpful and mind expanding. He has so much to offer to all of us looking to find our way.

5. Sarah at Dancing With The Waves of The Sea. Artfully done poetry!!She is skilled in so many ways, combining visual art with written art that blows me away with the development of thought.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Dreams and Rainbows

by R. Wayne Porter

Have you ever seen the birth of a dream
do they arrive on some gentle wind
Or perhaps they are cast by a storm in the night
how does the spark in one's life begin

Dreams are the fire in life's short endeavor
they give meaning and purpose to each
Although some are fulfilled by a fortunate few
for most, they stay just out of reach

Are rainbows a sign created by nature
to display the beauty of dreams
Or is it a message in marvelous colors
that our lives are wonderful things

So treasure your dream and keep its fire burning
for rainclouds and fog always lift
don't get discouraged when you feel downhearted
Think Rainbows
Remember that life is a gift

Thursday, April 2, 2009


The Wind

Forcefully the wind blows through the trees
picking up stray things in its way.

Swirling them about in a spiral, up, up
and sometimes at me, but not often.

Then it is deceptively calm.

I walk away from my home,
but come back again,

to protect it.

The wind rises and ebbs,
rises and ebbs.

When will it stop?

I am holding my heart.

But the wind is ruthless
it takes it along,

In the whirlwind.

Then it is gone,
and I feel alone.

Why do I miss it,
when it blows everything about me?

I have no control...

with the wind.

More Thoughts on Wind

Why does the wind like me so much?

It seems to call me always,
seems to embrace me.

Why does it seem to need me,
calling my name, circling about,
desperate to keep me here?

Yet leaves me alone when I need a nice breeze,
when I need to hear the conversation that it carries.

Where is the warm breeze?

Happily playing elsewhere, talking to others.

I am left, alone,
waiting for when it will return.

The wind comes with many moods,
sometimes it seems to enjoy laughing through the hills.

Sometimes the wind plays with the tree sprites, and
sometimes they run away, afraid of all that blowing.

The wind is a part of me,
yet it dosen't recognize that I want the sun to shine?

I would talk to it, but my spirit speaks in gentle breezes.
Harsh blowing is difficult to deal with.

I know I am shutting it out,
I am trying to keep things from blowing about,
I am trying to capture some happiness and warmth.

Why does the wind do this to me?




It is calm now,
the wind has been calm.

Will it blow again?

Can I learn to live with the wind?