Wednesday, May 12, 2010
LOST MAPLES by Jeff Callaway
LOST MAPLES
by jeff callaway
north
of Vanderpool
upon the Sabinal River
with varicolored trees
on rolling hills
which Mother Nature does deliver
in Autumn
a most majestic Texas sight
deep in the heart of
Lost Maples
we three friends
did camp one
night…
just Bryan, Josh and I…
sometime
shortly thereafter sunrise
in a beautiful birth of first light
we arrived
a wondrous wedding of friends
to nature's sweet delight
we set out on a five mile hike
out to our most quaint camp sight
upon the shores
of a clear and meandering stream
which the earth did feed
from the womb
of its natural spring
from atop a mighty limestone peak
my brave Bryan did dive
into its cool
refreshing
deep…
ancient
tall tall trees
live among the splendor
of the leaves
yellow, brown and green
Uvalde Bigtooth Maples dream
dramatic scenery
the Green Kingfisher sings
the song that late October brings
to echo against those rocky peaks
where Golden-Cheaked Warblers
nest and feed in Spring
to awaken the great Gray Fox that sleeps
the White-Tailed Deer
the bobcats screech
javelina, armadillos, raccoons root free
with all the flora and fauna
who both live together in peace
in nature's sweet sweet
simplicity…
and then
a lonesome
wind did speak
to Bryan, Josh and me
a breeze that blew bitter
bittersweet
up above and beyond
a canopy of trees
and those scenic streams
the sunlight beams
off clearest creeks
beside the deepest variations
of steep and rugged limestone canyons
we finally stood atop a grey plateau grassland
to admire
a limitless landscape of endless
wooded slopes
that sat softly radiant
in evening's pink
afterglow…
and also
archaeological
evidence does show
that prehistoric peoples
once did roam those
rolling hills that rolled and roll
from a horizon of black gold
to distances unknown
my friend Josh was even told
Apaches and Comanches
in days of old
both brave and bold did pose
a most menacing threat to those
settlers they met
who stole their homes
if truth be told
and truth be known
Josh told me so
by the campfire's warmest glow
by the campfire's wildest light
later that night
we both agreed that it wasn't right
but that Lost Maples was quite a sight
so while in hammock Bryan slept tight
right within the confines
of our quiet
and quaint camp sight
as Josh and I both drank
we came alive
alive we cried
under that wide open starry sky
of Texas night…
just Bryan, Josh and I…
copyright jeff callaway 2005
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