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Walking With

Poetry By: GFJones

As a youth, I spent many days roaming the rolling hills, woodlands, fields and streams surround our property in Western Pennsylvania. This past year I re-read Walden and discovered how much in common I had with Henry David Thoreau. I tribute this to him.

Submitted:Jan 14, 2010    Reads: 142    Comments: 12    Likes: 5   

Walking With

GFJones 2010

I used to walk with Henry David Thoreau

Unread, this fact I did not know

Twas natural to be, among the trees

Young lad taking in, autumn's cool breeze

The hardwoods would moan and bristle and clatter

As the wind through their branches would whistle and chatter

Golden snowflakes, leafage large as a hand

Whisking away the thoughts contrived by man

The trail of the white tail is not hard to follow

And leads to their beddings tucked into the hollow

Grouse and rabbit, turkey and squirrel

With patience the forest reveals all its pearls

Not far off the path, a large fallen Oak

With limb as a bench, the sun one could soak

Pure light beaming down, blue-sky overhead

The voice of the woodlands, a spirit well fed

As Henry predicted and time has moved on

My time in the woodlands has come and gone

Though home has changed, can never restart

In spirit those amblings remain in the heart


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