The Ancient Hills

see who is looking back at you in the woods of the kentucky mountains. Nature's poem.

THE ANCIENT HILLS

By Lisa Noe



The lush mountains crowded with trees.

The tangled vines scattered about the cliffs.

The dogwoods and red buds blooming each spring,

daffodils and lilies bursting with color.

Black gold within the hills, which sparkle like diamonds.

Caverns running deep within the stone mountains,

fresh spring water bubbling down the mountains and cascading over the rigid cliffs.

Oh the beauty of it, in these old Kentucky hills.



At night the sound of nature makes it's mark,

as lightning bugs dot about streaking sparks in the black night,

the sounds of frogs croaking, owls screeching, crickets chirping

and the howling of a dog through the night.

In the morning birds take over nature's sweet sound and

a rooster's crow starts the day.

The sweet smell of honey suckle fills the air

and the deer, the rabbit, the raccoon, and the fox,

the opossum, and groundhog are but a few inhabitants

which scurry about the woods, content to be hidden by the ancient hills.