September 15, 2006

Poetry Friday I: My Prairies

My Prairies
by Hamlin Garland (1860-1940)

I love my prairies, they are mine
From zenith to horizon line,
Clipping a world of sky and sod
Like the bended arm and wrist of God.

I love their grasses. The skies
Are larger, and my restless eyes
Fasten on more of earth and air
Than seashore furnishes anywhere.

I love the hazel thickets; and the breeze,
The never resting prairie winds. The trees
That stand like spear points high
Against the dark blue sky

Are wonderful to me. I love the gold
Of newly shaven stubble, rolled
A royal carpet toward the sun, fit to be
The pathway of a deity.

I love the life of pasture lands; the songs of birds
Are not more thrilling to me than the herd's
Mad bellowing or the shadow stride
Of mounted herdsmen at my side.

I love my prairies, they are mine
From high sun to horizon line.
The mountains and the cold gray sea
Are not for me, are not for me.


For more on Hamlin Garland, who won the Pulitzer Prize for biography in 1921 for Daughter of the Middle Border, visit the Hamlin Garland Society website, which includes a bibliography listing other poetry and books by Garland available online and a good list of resources.


Hop over to Kelly at Big A little a for the day's round-up, as well as "an excerpt, a review, and a big, big recommendation." Sounds good to me!

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