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Dance With The Sand Hill Cranes
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Dance With The Sand Hill Cranes

I spent today in a hidden meadow,
With wildflowers up to my knees;
And butterflies that swooped and dived,
And all around me, trees.

There to my enraptured eyes appeared
In a corner by the bulrush canes,
A sight not beheld by me before;
A pair, of sand hill cranes.

And oh, how they bobbed and danced,
Along on the meadow fair;
And oh, how they ran, gathering speed,
As they lofted the azure air.

Oh the enchantment of the hidden meadow -
Oh the beauty of the wildflowers there,
Oh the rapture and the majesty;
As the sand hill cranes danced there!

Should I grow old, instituted be,
In a rest home deep in a stifling town;
God, comfort me with this tranquil scene,
As life’s evening sun sinks down.

In my memory, journey back with me,
To that enchanted meadow again;
With its wildwood flowers, it’s woodland bowers,
And the dance of the sand hill crane!

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Comments (2)

I could almost smell the wildflowers. A fine poem. Robert
This poem reminds me of the naturalist writings of Aldo Leopold.