Our Land

One morning as I walked the dog,
I spied a grouse upon a log.
Then high up in a maple tree,
I heard a happy chickadee.
Then deep in the woods the blue jay calls.
His song was so very shrill.
Was then I saw a herd of deer,
In the meadow from the hill.
Then as we headed homeward,
Which seemed to me like hours,
I looked up and then thanked God,
For this great land of ours.

by Margaret VanderWal

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