Yosemite Falls

    On top of that huge wall of crumbling stone,
    Below the vast sky where the lone bird cries,
    In the place where the thunder and wind moan,
    Above the pool when at dusk the sun dies.
    Through the sheet of wet mist from the dark sky,
    At the valley where the stars shine at night.
    Out of the place where the lost rivers die
    Within the cave where there's almost no light.
     Down the huge sculpture of wet rock that lie,
     Where the vertical river once gave birth.
      Under the loyal, glowing rainbow that
      Keeps God's promise to our weary, old Earth.
      The beautiful falls of Yosemite
      Is truly a wonderful place to be.
---Posted by the daughter of the family
---Dedicated to Lian Lian and Han Ming
---With thanks to Mrs. Cormode for teaching me how to write a Shakespearian-styled sonnet

Clouds (a poem)

Sometimes I lie down

On the sun-warmed grass,

When my mound

of chores cease to last.

Then, as I look up to the sky

I see

Clouds.

Clouds tumbling across the blue

Some old, some others new.

Each ones are different shades of hue.

That's what they are

Clouds.

For Aunt Anne