Gentle Hills

These one hundred forty-one poems are the voice of a woman who loved God, life, her children, and the beautiful small town of Logan, Ohio, where she was born and lived. Here are short, lovely poems that will warm your heart, bring a smile to your face, and a nod of appreciation for a point well made. The author saw magic and grace in the events of a seemingly ordinary life. These poems express her appreciation for the extraordinary in every small thing, if one only takes the time to look for it.
No deep philosophical poems here, instead these are poems that will touch your heart, your spirit, and your soul. As you read these poems you can picture the author sitting in her garden, with her cat and her flowers around her. She wrote about what she knew, saw, and loved: Albert (her gold cat), children and grandchildren, tea parties, getting older, Christmas, Easter, thunder and wind, stars and storms, the herb woman, the rocking chair, a star quilt, Dee’s pillow, and even Dandelions and Mr. McCarty Is Dead.

DANDELIONS
Children love the yellow dandelions,
And pick them for their bouquets.
Most grown-ups dig them up
And throw them away.
But there is a secret
Only angels know
God made them just for children
That’s why dandelions grow.

MR. McCARTY IS DEAD
Mr. McCarty is dead
I feel like crying
But I’ll smile instead
Because that’s the way
He’d want it.

I loved this dear old man
Who walked with a cane
Past my house each day
And never complained
Of the arthritis that bothered him.

He’d been a farmer
All his life
Until his wife
Died five years ago
And he moved to town
Next door to me.

He taught me how to prune the trees
And entice the bees
To pollinate the flowers
He helped the children find lost balls
And planted tulips for me in the fall.

He had a gentle smile
And quiet faith.
How bright
God’s heaven is tonight
With him there.

Mr. McCarty is dead
I feel like crying
But I’ll smile instead.