Charles Hill
Charles Hill Poems
Soft winds knead the grass,
Like bakers kneading dough,
blowing gently alas,
Hugging the grass low. Leaves rustling in the wind,
...
In the Spring of life,
The freshness of youth is new.
Love never becomes trite.
Too much excitement to be blue. In the Summer of life,
...
I'm in an L.A. frame of mind.
Visit Exposition Park's garden of flowers.
Take a ride on the metro-line,
To Simon Rodia's Watts Towers. Can't beat the weather, except for smog.
...
The Best Poem Of Charles Hill
Whispering Wind
Soft winds knead the grass,
Like bakers kneading dough,
blowing gently alas,
Hugging the grass low. Leaves rustling in the wind,
Creating an impeccable tune,
While tree limbs slightly bend,
Gentle as a harvest moon. I walk through towering pines,
Hearing whispering wind blow,
Music so soft and fine,
Generating a grand symphonic show. Never stop whispering to the ear.
Blow soft don't squall.
Just keep blowing near,
Bringing joy to all.
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4/25/2024 7:11:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
