Bandera

The golden moon has risen
Over the Hill Country’s 
deep dark green.

The silhouette of the mountains
Is the artwork 
Of the night scape serene.

How beautifully clear 
Is the ebony sky,
That’s studded with such brilliant light.

How purely fragrant is the late summer breeze,
That blows ‘neath the twinkling stars,
And kisses the twisted oak trees.

Your glory, O Lord, is seen all about,
Great beauty for all to behold.
The wonders of your creation, Lord,
Are a feast for the eyes and the soul.

Nelda Johnson

Pocosin Mission Trail

You fill up my heart
Like the wind fills the trees,
With joyful excitement,
From it’s all embracing breeze.

Your kiss in the forest 
Is as sweet as the spring,
That spills from the mountain
And makes my soul sing.

To hike by your side
‘Neath the canopy of Fall,
Makes the steep uphill climb
Seem so easy and the hillside so small.

At the end of the trail
As the sun’s hanging low,
I smile remembering this day,

How you walked by my side,
Filled my heart with a smile,
On this beautiful Shenandoah day. 

Nelda Johnson

Glorious September

The splendor of September
Bathes the day in golden light,
Turns the deep green summer forest
Into a symphony of delight.

In shades of new wine,
Spun honey and Virginia apple red,
The leaves proclaim God’s glory
Unlike anything that can be said.

They fall from the heights of the grandest trees,
In a dance to be envied by man.
They twirl and sway to the forest floor,
And with pure grace and gentle ease, they land.

What a glorious tapestry on the floor ‘neath our feet,
Sweet colors of wonder so bright,
As they lay in the splendor of lovely September,
As they lay in the warm golden light.

Nelda Johnson
Copyright 2020

Day Is Done

The evening sun hangs low, in the distant reddened sky,
While dusk moves in stealthily, from the east.
The whip-poor-will is singing her mournful song,
As the labors of daylight soon cease.

The darkened silhouettes of the mountains so tall,
Rest snuggly against the deep, twilight sky.
The stars all shimmer like diamonds, so rare,
As the full moon shines its bright, silvery light.

Another fine day has come and now gone,
Like a dusty traveler who is weary from the road,
Who has travelled long, to some faraway land
And then rested, after lightening his load.

Velvety quiet has finally, gently settled in,
Like some silent guest, who is completely at peace.
It’s a recipe that beckons me somehow, to peaceful, restful, much needed sleep,
As a distant, lonely coyote is heard, calling for a friend.

Nelda Johnson
Copyright 2020