| The prairie land is a lovely land, and fair it lies and broad,
With its miles of sheer and shimmering wheat, a-sway on the level sod. But I come from the hills, and I miss the hills, that lift their heads to God. A prairie sky is a wondrous thing, rose-stained and turquoise blue, When the last gray hour of the night is spent, and the day is born a-new. But my heart has leaped to the rugged hills, when the silver dawn stepped through. A prairie night is soft and blurred, out under a star-sown sky; The fireflies rise from the tail, damp grass, as the last of day goes by. Through holy nights we have watched the hills, ___ the desert stars and I. The prairie land is a friendly land, where gay, wild sunflowers nod Their dusty heads to each stiff necked spray of wayside golden- rod. But I loved the hills, the stern, dark hills, that spoke to me of God. |
The Call of Kansas and Other Poems
Esther M. (Clark) Hill
(Cedar Rapids: Torch Press. __)
Page 44
Visit the Home Page for Kansas