Gentle Hills (ePub)

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 & wind-stars and storms, the herb woman, the rocking chair, Mr. McCarty Is Dead, Dee's pillow and even a Tea Party and The Star Quilt.

TEA PARTY

When I was very young

My grandmother served me tea

In delicate, hand-painted cups.

We talked of this and that

And I felt so very grown-up.

Today, a gracious old lady

Served me tea and petits fours,

Called me a dear child,

And I, with grown-up children of my own,

Felt so very young, once more.

THE STAR QUILT

By the year 1866,

Young John Hutchinson had come home

From the war,

Cleared some land

And gotten the log house built.

That was the year

His wife, Julie Ann, started to make

Her star quilt.

She used scraps of material,

Like bits of the rainbow,

Gathered from cousins and aunts,

Near and far.

Then carefully cut

Into two hundred and thirty-five

Small eight-sided stars.

When it was time to quilt

Her grandmother came

From three farms down

And Aunt Jessie came from town

To help and gently chide

If the stitches weren't small and neat

And side by side.

Off and on

All winter long

The women worked when chores were thru

And as their busy fingers flew

Grandma told them tales

Of long ago,

When her grandfather first came here

And it was all forestland.

And where Uncle Willy's barn now stands

There was an Indian camp.

So they would talk and sew

Until the sputtering of the lamp

Told them it was time to go.

Julie Ann loved her star quilt

And later on,

Her children loved it, too.

It passed down thru the family

And for ages seemed like new.

It warmed many a small child

And chased away

The winter's chill.

Yet in all her dreams

Never did she guess

That one day her quilt would hang

On the wall of a great museum,

A thing of beauty still,

Tho' faded now and worn.

How proud she'd be

To see this day

And hear all that the people have to say

About her old star quilt

That she made in 1866,

The year John got the log house built.