Whitesides
by Robert Hilton
Its dark outside
Barely awake, I stumble out of the tent
Pulling on my trousers and boots
Looking around
I see smoke lifting from what is left of the campfire
Still a glow from last nights laughing and old stories
The stars are still bright leaving a hazy glow
Flooding the landscape around
Dark shadows of trees and rocks from the moonlight
Stretching up the mountainside and over the ridge
It’s quiet, real quiet, and the bucks are listening
Papa and I grab a sweet roll
Trying to thaw out our fingers
The hot coffee warms up our hands
We grab our daypacks and ready our rifles
Slinging them over our backs, heading off
We slowly make our way through the darkness crossing the stream
Weaving in and out of rocks and ducking for branches
Coming into a clearing the smell of wild lavender fills the crisp cold air
We climb our way over rocks
And through the shadows
Towards the rocky ridge overlooking the valley
We stop
The cold wind whispers at our faces
The sunrise is heavenly
And the only thing I can think of is God
by Robert Hilton
Its dark outside
Barely awake, I stumble out of the tent
Pulling on my trousers and boots
Looking around
I see smoke lifting from what is left of the campfire
Still a glow from last nights laughing and old stories
The stars are still bright leaving a hazy glow
Flooding the landscape around
Dark shadows of trees and rocks from the moonlight
Stretching up the mountainside and over the ridge
It’s quiet, real quiet, and the bucks are listening
Papa and I grab a sweet roll
Trying to thaw out our fingers
The hot coffee warms up our hands
We grab our daypacks and ready our rifles
Slinging them over our backs, heading off
We slowly make our way through the darkness crossing the stream
Weaving in and out of rocks and ducking for branches
Coming into a clearing the smell of wild lavender fills the crisp cold air
We climb our way over rocks
And through the shadows
Towards the rocky ridge overlooking the valley
We stop
The cold wind whispers at our faces
The sunrise is heavenly
And the only thing I can think of is God
And that is as it should be. I love sunrises and rejoice in being the only one up and about to enjoy them. Beautiful poem. Thanks.
ReplyDeletebeautilful poems/Robs Papa said:He walking every step that Rob described as if he was there coming up to the windy ridge and over looking Upper Relief Valley enjoying every step of the way and missing our dear Rob more than he will ever know....just beautiful!
ReplyDeleteAngela you have me hooked on poetry.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely think Rob's is superior.
I knew he had a sensative side, but didn't know he had expressed it so beautifully in poetry.
I'm so glad you are sharing these with us.
Did you take that picture? I usually deplore photos of sunrises or sunsets only because so many of them are taken so poorly. This one is STUNNING.
ReplyDeleteThe poem comes alive with your son's descriptive words. I feel the morning mountain air, the song of nature in his tribute...What a beautiful son you have.
ReplyDeleteI am glad you saved his poetry throughout the years.
The photos on your blog are amazing. Do you take them yourself?
ReplyDeleteBeauty Full!!! He just HAS to KEEP WRITING! Thank YOU! for sharing! xoCinda
ReplyDeleteProfoundly beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThere's nothing quite like the beauty of the vast outdoors to ground us & make us feel one with God.
Really exceptional poetry here... I can even picture the cold white knuckles going red holding that fresh cup of coffee and can almost feel the morning dew adding moisture to each breath.