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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required We loaded up for a Sunday drive The Ozark Mountains were alive Wild dogwoods of pink and white Every shade of green in sight Blooming jonquils and daffodils Woodpeckers, blue jays, and whippoorwills Even though the painting was unfinished Nature's bounty was being replenished On switchback mountain roads Past gray bluffs where eagles abode A long slow roller coaster ride With buzzards feeding alongside Headed to our favorite place A canyon God's finger had traced Where echos and memories yearn Friendly fires cleanse and burn The raccoons, the skunks and the deer Cared less that we were here A nervous lizard escorted us to the creek Clear running ice water froze our feet A white misty blanket of fog Spread out for the picnicking frogs The rocks played a gurgling tune In the middle of Mother Nature's bedroom Sitting under a cottonwood tree It all comes back to me Generations of family laughter Roaring in the treetop rafters I saw an old man with his two sons In shadowed waters catching crawdads for fun My children's voices heard in the wind As they both were learning to swim I started coming here at age five We've camped here hundreds of times Back then this water was deeper Each year the stream grows weaker But time's wind blows no weather vane All around memories remain I come here a lot to look And color in my life's coloring book an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
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