Poem for her 875

Dear Readers,


Valley of the Moon


We were not in Chile
Yet we were very near by
Well sorta Kinda

The place was a valley
It was cold
We had a few bowls of Chili
The fire was warm
The small hut we had built
It was more just a ranger station
Yet we were the rangers
It was on land we owned
Way out there in the high mountains
Up near the tree line
We drove there
On roads we knew
Tracks really
Just two lanes
Grass grew on them
Most of the year

Up in the sticks we liked to say
Out yonder
Way out yonder
Families of ours bought the land
Prices cheap
Not high cost
Wild places
Where wolf and bear lived
No hunting
Posted to say none of that here
No logging either
Trees had tags on them
Paid to be kept long after we were gone
Kept for the times past ours

We liked this chili
Worked on the recipe
Had the fixings in our gear
In the big Jeep
She loved to drive it
Big Jeep
The one that could go under water
Stay there for a picnic
While water flowed over top

We were there to check on things
Make sure the door worked on the hut
Make sure the supplies were topped off
Left a few notes for others
Logged our stay
Made the trip in a long day of just road
The night we'd cuddle
By the fire
Then off the next day
Down out of the mountains again
Yet here
The moon
High in the sky
Quarter
Just flowing toward the sunset glow
Over the rim
It'd be dark dark soon
Then star gazing for a while

See the first rim star rising
Over yonder crest
Moon rock it was called
The tilted stone
Glassy up close
Ragged and fuzzy now
Soft glow of her bright eyes
I loved her eyes at night
Soft fire in them
Warmth at a touch

Chili she pointed
Eat was her thought
I was
Of her glow
I have no need of food
With her so near

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.