VIEWPOINT ?
I guess,
‘Tis what’s in a man’s heart,
More or less,
As to what is art.
Which this is supposed to be,
To my mind, more,
A well done machinery spring I see,
To be bought in a hardware store.
This church to me,
Familiar to me from childhood,
Is a treasure to see,
Guess though it’s all good,
One’s point of view depends on how you are made,
To a machinist, a giant spring,
Is a thing of beauty if it is first rate,
Railroad bridges are works of art that bring,
Joy to me, I state.
GENTLY COMES FALL
It starts high up,
The Aspens begin to change,
But here in town, not so abrupt,
A bit later, not strange.
Resplendent are they,
But don’t have the yellow fire,
Quite, that Aspens play,
But played on Autumn’s lyre.
Like soldiers in file,
They march in uniform,
Proud the while,
As is a soldier’s norm.
WINTER’S HARBINGER
Driving on I-70 West,
Near the Genessee turnoff,
Is the picture best,
Framed no less.
Of our gorgeous Rocky Mountains,
And a bit further is a better view,
The scenery surmounting,
Any thing man can do.
And on the crests you can see,
A dusting of snow,
What in weeks will come to we,
Starts up high and then comes low.
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One of the old houses in Idaho Springs. I notice that the residents of some of the mountain towns accentuate the architectural details by a careful choice of colored paints. Some of these homes date back to gold mining days.
EARLY EYES
Up early and about,
A necessary thing sometime,
Gave me though, a chance to scout,
The scene to our west did truly chime.
To see the mountains – a bit low,
Sunlight on the foothills gleams,
Gives a glow,
This man deems.
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I don’t often get out in the morning early, and seldom am headed west. Back east on a higher point one can see the mountains behind the foothills. On a fresh morning a man feels that perhaps with a tad closer look he could count the needles on the pine trees.
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