Where the beauty
of Spring
Comes forth in a rush,
And the flower's full bloom
Seems to hasten,
There's a place that calls out
To my heart every year
That's known as the
Yankee Boy Basin.
For the mountains that crown
The deep valleys below
Stand sentinel and guard every
Spot
Where the miners of old
Sought for silver and gold,
And turned with a shovel,
Each plot.
Once again to feel awe
As my heart strings reach out,
And my being takes hold of the
Sight,
That's breathtaking by day
And more wondrous yet
In the grasp of the great
Starry night.
May it always be so,
And eternity know of the
Wondrous wealth of this land,
Where no words can describe
And no mortal can know
How the Creator
Made it so grand!
copyright 1995 Nona Kelley Carver