Walk softly ‘cross these hallowed hills,
Wake not the spirits of dark chills.
As night falls ‘cross these harvest fields,
Where corn and soy, gave up their yields.
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Lovely piece of poetry elegantly penned in poetic diction with lovely rhyme scheme. A beautiful poem written with conviction. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.
I see that you submitted this poem in 2007 and edited it in 2011. It needs another edit in 2015. I'm sure you meant The moon gripped in its mighty fist instead of The moon griped in its mighty fist. Congratulations on having it selected as Member Poem of the Day.
It's a nice poem...I can imagine you walking through those hallowed hills cautiously. Which place is it?
Sever runs down the spine.Nice drop.