Best Great Smoky Mountains Poems

As I lay upon a grassy bald in the Great Smoky Mountains on a clear August night, I gaze at the stars and muse about my Creator, the source of all dynamic energy. A tear forms in my eye as I contemplate whether or not...

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As I wend my way around curving roads
up high into the mountains
I finally arrive at the Eight Gables Inn.
I wonder what it is that drives me here!
Perhaps I have developed wings
and flew across the Atlantic towards
The Great Smoky Mountains
on my adventurous ride
to the Blue Ridge...

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Resting In These Tennessee Hills

Lazy mornings in these Tennessee hills
Horned owl in tree behind house hoots all night
Sometimes annoys but often gifts a thrill
As country-fired moon sends us brighter light!

Mellow breeze, waltz morn rays with soft touch
Tall trees wrapping such gentle slopping yards
Often this beauty...

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As I sit and marvel at God’s creation, I can’t help but to wonder what awesome
power has created such tranquil surroundings. The mighty oaks with flush greenery, the
gentle, rolling hills of “The Great Smoky Mountains” and the sound of rushing water from a 
nearby creek....

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In The Great Smoky Mountains,
morning haze aglow with
dewy wonder,
sepia light-winds its way
in and out amid the trees;
I sit on the cabin porch,
a cup of joe, steaming
and look out to see a black
bear cub approaching.

He stops at the nearby creek
to drink, soon joined by Mama
and another...

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               The beautiful trees,
               In RED country! 

         ...

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In photographs and dreams,
memories of the Great Smoky Mountains, I see
Chilly streams

Clay pot crafting
Childhood days with my family
Rafting

Hot sun
in Cherokee
Fun!

In photographs and dreams.
childhood days with my family
fun!



*Cherokee is a town in the Smoky Mountain Range
August 19, 2020
An Innocent Childhood Memory Contest
Sponsored by:  Mohan Chutani...

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blue misty hazes
rolling over pine-clad hills
Great Smoky Mountains,
Be sure to visit Cade’s Cove
Where bears wander in the wild.

written July 6, 2021...

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for Jim*

Equinox is past, yet the wind
blows cold. From a veranda swing

he watches pansies, daisies, snapdragons
color-up his garden; Smoky Mountains

so far distant he cannot see. He hears
the eastbound train echo warning. Rain

tomorrow.


*My late husband was born in the hills of North Carolina. Among his people...

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