In the Valley at Estevan Sask.

Poetry 


The wilds are calling me,
     Calling from afar;
The sounds are following me
     From the windy bar
By the silent-flowing stream,
     Where new mem’ries are.

The morning is calling me,
     Dreaming of the dew;
The sunlight is following me
     The green woods through.
And the valley was radiant
     With heaven and you.

And you are calling me
     When shall I go?
By the pale glimmer of morning,
     Or sunset’s full flow
Of radiancy streaming
     The valley below?
RF Adams

Published by Victoria Wilson

Published