LOST MAPLES by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet)

North

of Vanderpool

upon the Sabinal River

with varicolored trees

on rolling hills

which Mother Nature does deliver

in Autumn

a most majestic Texas sight

deep in the heart of

Lost Maples

we three friends

did camp one

night…

just Bryan, Josh and I…

sometime

shortly thereafter sunrise

in a beautiful birth of first light

we arrived

a wondrous wedding of friends

to nature’s sweet delight

we set out on a five mile hike

out to our most quaint camp sight

upon the shores

of a clear and meandering stream

which the earth did feed

from the womb

of its natural spring

from atop a mighty limestone peak

my brave Bryan did dive

into its cool

refreshing

deep…

ancient

tall tall trees

live among the splendor

of the leaves

yellow, brown and green

Uvalde Bigtooth Maples dream

dramatic scenery

the Green Kingfisher sings

the song that late October brings

to echo against those rocky peaks

where Golden-Cheaked Warblers

nest and feed in Spring

to awaken the great Gray Fox that sleeps

the White-Tailed Deer

the bobcats screech

javelina, armadillos, raccoons root free

with all the flora and fauna

who both live together in peace

in nature’s sweet sweet

simplicity…

and then

a lonesome

wind did speak

to Bryan, Josh and me

a breeze that blew bitter

bittersweet

up above and beyond

a canopy of trees

and those scenic streams

the sunlight beams

off clearest creeks

beside the deepest variations

of steep and rugged limestone canyons

we finally stood atop a grey plateau grassland

to admire

a limitless landscape of endless

wooded slopes

that sat softly radiant

in evening’s pink

afterglow…

and also

archaeological

evidence does show

that prehistoric peoples

once did roam those

rolling hills that rolled and roll

from a horizon of black gold

to distances unknown

my friend Josh was even told

Apaches and Comanches

in days of old

both brave and bold did pose

a most menacing threat to those

settlers they met

who stole their homes

if truth be told

and truth be known

Josh told me so

by the campfire’s warmest glow

by the campfire’s wildest light

later that night

we both agreed that it wasn’t right

but that Lost Maples was quite a sight

so while in hammock Bryan slept tight

right within the confines

of our quiet

and quaint camp sight

as Josh and I both drank

we came alive

alive we cried

under that wide open starry sky

of Texas night…

just Bryan, Josh and I…

COPYRIGHT © 2006 JEFF CALLAWAY

 

Click here for more info on Lost Maples State Park!

Click here to buy A Peck Of Pickled Poems on Amazon!

Jeff Callaway was born in Athens, Texas in 1976. Since then he has attempted to tour every bar and every jail-house in this great state. Fortunately he shares his experiences through his edgy southern poetry that can be as sultry as Texas itself. Jeff has written five chapbooks and two full-length volumes, all published by Austin publisher Texas Outlaw Press. He has appeared at countless open mics and performed many spoken word events since 2003. He recently had his first art show of original work at the Hal Samples Space Gallery in Deep Ellum, displaying his many multi-media renderings of beer bottles. He currently resides in Texas where he continues to perform, write, paint, live and love.

 

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