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About This Author
 Writing poetry allows me to exercise my imagination and share it with others. I strive to write for the benefit of the reader using carnival fun mirror images of my life's experiences.
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| Hiking is a glorious way, To escape into the forest, Where we're born with the right to say, Which paths are optimal for us, The scent of mountain rose's grand, Sunshine pleasant upon the face, The black muck river bottomland, Will put the youngsters in their place, Over our heads the endless skies, As we wander a foothill trail, The world is diamonds in our eyes, We’re the kings of all we surveil, Rhododendron’s bow as we pass, Northern pine and aspen salute, Fronds of ferns and sweet green grass, Raspberry cedes sweet tithes of fruit, A mother bear with its fat cub, Makes way in a stately fashion, They hide behind a laurel shrub, We regard them with compassion, We arrive at the mountain top, Joining hand in hand we commune, Then jump and spread our golden wings, We fly like the eagles in June, We circle around mountain peaks, We float like a hot air balloon, Like jets across the sky, we streak, We go all the way to the moon, And when we land we’re home again, Explaining the reason’s not hard, We are where we’ve always been, Playing safely in our back yard.
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