Sky Over The Desert

Does the western sky look clearer
While you’re sitting on desert sand?
Are the stars much brighter here
Than viewed from foreign land?
Can you see the full moon
Rising in the distant sky?
It’s fuller over the desert,
But I can’t reason why.
Do you think the drovers’ camps,
With fires burning in the night,
Add their light to the moon and stars?
I think they just might.
Or is it because the cowboy poets
Write so eloquently about it,
They’ve coaxed out a little more light
To keep our American desert lit?
The western sky looks clearer
While viewing from desert sand,
The stars are much brighter,
Than seen from foreign land.

(c)2009, John Taylor
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.


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The Old Plow

A plow sits rusty and worn
From long years of plowing corn.
Many times it was pulled behind
By plow teams that did not mind.
Up and down and to and fro,
The old plow worked long ago.
Farmers and teams have gone to dust
While the old plow rests in its rust.

(c)2009, John Taylor
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.


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Love Is Forever
To My Wife

A life time is not enough,
To contain my love for you,
It seems so ethereal,
As fog over morning dew.

Fancy cars, gold and money,
Can�t compete for your love,
You�re a heavenly creature,
Sent from God up above.

Long before creation,
We were destined to be,
Side by side together,
From here to eternity.

(c)2008, John Taylor
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.


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Fond Memories

Long ago I saw a picture,
Hanging on a museum wall.
Something about it struck me,
It was a smile that I recall.

A slightly tilted woman's face,
Her silent laugh had just begun,
I could feel gladness in each one,
Artist and model having fun.

When days are difficult and down,
I remember that smile and so
Impossible problems are gone,
And sadness is a beaten foe.

Fond memories are like that,
They're comfort when you are sad,
Keep one safe in your heart,
Remembering will make you glad.

(c)2008, John Taylor
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.


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Fall Color

Leaves are falling from the trees,
Coloring the landscape as they please.
Red, gold, orange and yellow,
Scattered about as the winds blow.
Swirling around into the sky,
Their colors delight as they fly by.
Beauty spreading across the land,
Swept by the power of God's hand.

(c)2006, John Taylor
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.


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My Flower Garden

A flower garden blooms in my yard,
Beauties without equal are there.
As they fill the day with their presence
I can smell their perfume in the air.

Roses, red upon green, thorny stems
Roam under and over the fence.
While day lilies stand guard behind,
Iris buds are gathering to commence.

Hinting of blossoms soon to bloom,
Bluebells hang their pretty heads.
Adding their color to a garden serene
Are daffodils in their yellow beds.

A garden seat waits within an Eden,
Flowers all around, it seems.
I sit and breathe the air of their beauty,
Resting amid heavenly dreams.

(c)2006, John Taylor
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.


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