The Wind in the Pines

When I was walking in the woods

with a backpack filled with goods

I was planning to walk

where the huge wildcats stalk.

I wanted to go to the pond to catch frogs

near the immense pile of logs

That were thrown there years ago and were forgotten.

Then as my legs began to moan

I sat down on a flat stone

I started to take out, from my backpack, a book

when I suddenly decided to take a look

at the nature wonderland before me.

So when I stopped to listen

To the rivers that glisten

On a great, shining summer day,

I heard the most beautiful sound

near two pine trees that were bound

together with a pile of rope.

I listened,

 and when I listened again,

 I heard, in the distance,

the loud sound of men!

When I hid,

the men slid

to a stop in front of the pines.

One man took out a knife

-I hoped he didn't plan to take a life-

but to my greatest surprise, he cut the rope

that bound the trees together in half!

Only once the men went away

then when I finally strayed

from the bush where I had been hiding.

The whispers of the wind whistled freely again

the sound that seemed to touch my heart.

So as I finished my walk

to where the huge wildcats stalk

I heard, for the last time,

the wind in the pines.

----Posted by the daughter of the family

----Dedicated to my mother

The River and the Horse

The Horse glides and flies with the wind,

while the River never looks behind.

The Horse runs to race the Eagle

and the River flows along to stay regal.

The beast, the Horse, is so beautiful and strong,

and for the River, she always knows exactly where she belongs.

When the Horse calls, his voice is filled with pure courage.

As for the River, her voice contains no rage.

As the Horse and River run along,

There is no mistaking their sweet song.

----Posted by the daughter of the family

----Written in memory of Twinkle, our loyal bird

A Week in the Desert

  For a week my dad and friends stayed in Yosemite,

They often said, "This is the right place to be!"

They took pictures all night and day

They didn't have any time to play.

They took pictures of the land,

and they took pictures of hills made of sand
They took pictures of the dusk and dawn,

One moment they were here, then they were gone.

After the last pictures of the moon and the sun,

Their work in Yosemite was FINALLY done.

----Posted by the daughter of the family

----Dedicated to my dad, the photographer