The Grand Ronde Valley
by Ella Higginson (1861-1940) |
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AH me! I know how like a golden flower
The Grand
Ronde valley lies this August night,
Locked in by dimpled
hills where purple light
Lies wavering. There at the
sunset hour
Sink downward, like a rainbow-tinted shower,
A thousand colored rays, soft, changeful, bright.
Later the large moon rises, round and white,
And three
Blue Mountain pines against it tower,
Lonely and dark. A
coyote's mournful cry
Sinks from the canon,�whence the
river leaps
A blade of silver underneath the moon.
Like restful seas the yellow wheat-fields lie,
Dreamless
and still. And while the valley sleeps,
O hear!�the
lullabies that low winds croon. |
By Ella Higginson (1861-1940)
Listed June 18, 2013 |
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