Posts Tagged ‘mountains’


There’s a woods behind my house
With a trail’s faint remains
That has almost disappeared
From overgrowth and rains
It winds around the hillocks
From the valley to the lake
And twists all through the mountains
Like a long and writhing snake

‘Twas made by Indian ponies
And many moccasined feet
Long before the white man came
And spoiled this wild retreat
When I am walking that worn path
Sometimes there’s ghosts in view
Proud Chieftain and brave warriors
With wives and children, too

I often see a faint mirage
Beside a little brook
Of big teepees or wiki-ups
And women, as they cook
And children, laughing as they play
As little children do
Of hunters bringing in the meat
For the evening’s tasty stew

With maidens weaving baskets
Or perhaps making mats
I can hear their modest laughter
During their lively chats
I can almost smell the campfire
And hear proud voices, too
As braves tell of hunting trips
And how they counted coup

The trail’s steeped in history
From when it first appeared
But it, like the Indian culture
Has all but disappeared

6/25/89 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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In the mountains and the meadows
There’s beauty to be seen,
And even in the fringe of woods
Bright colors mix with green.

There is lupine and arbutus
Growing near the trees,
With some yellow-centered daisies
Swaying in the breeze.

Abundant scarlet paintbrush,
Violets dressed in blue,
There’s columbine and trillium,
And coneflower’s purple hue.

Lilies curling petals down —
Their orange splashed everywhere.
Wisteria’s graceful tendrils
In the wood’s scented air.

Thistle and some goldenrod,
And lovely Queen Anne’s Lace —
At attention on the roadsides,
All waving with such grace.

Some shooting stars in dainty pink,
And morning-glory banks.
Tall sunflowers bowing heavy heads —
Now I bow mine in thanks.

8/18/04 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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Chiseled by great glacial movement

Etched by mighty winds and rain

Stands a range of distant mountains

Sensual in their pristine grandeur

Cloud cloaked summits hiding faces

From the sting of wind blown snow

Waiting for the sun’s flirtation

Warming respite from the cold

On the slopes are verdant meadows

Crystal streams and waterfalls

Great pine forests full of wildlife

Range for bald and golden eagles

Nestled snugly in the valley

Lies a village ‘neath its slopes

Awed by nature’s supreme sculpture

Humbled ever, at its feet


8/30/91             Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck


4’th … NFSPS 1993

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America, you’re beautiful.

You’ve made me fall in love

With scalloped hills and mountain heights

And painted skies above.


You’ve paraded all your splendor

Before my dazzled eyes,

And tethered me tightly to you

With nature’s verdant ties.


God blessed your hills and valleys

Where streams and rivers flow,

Then kissed your beautiful landscape

And made the flowers grow.


Your seasons are spectacular:

Spring blossoms bursting seams,

Summer’s medley of sight and sound,

Fall’s gorgeous color schemes.


And there is winter’s beauty, too,

When snow coats everything.

And trees wear crystal negligees

From nature’s rampant fling.


I am spellbound by your beauty.

It’s etched upon my heart.

A tribute to nature’s eloquence

And the magic it imparts.



8/29/90 – Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck      


5’th … Indiana NPD – 1992

8’th … N F S P S – 2002

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