DRIPPING POETRY: OLD CREEK ROAD
April is National Poetry Month, and to celebrate Doyle Morgan Fellers, Dripping's very own Poet Laureate, shared a locally-inspired poem with us. Doyle's book of poetry, Come Sit With Me, is included in the new Charlotte
Walters Rhodes Collection at the Dripping Springs library. This new collection
was given special status to honor Charlotte Rhodes, one of the founders and
major supporters of the library. The collection will consist of eight hundred
books based on Charlotte’s passion for the literary arts and her personal love
of reading.
Old Creek Road
A wonderful day for a walk up the road.
No hat, no coat just the rising sun and me—
The smell of light air on an “Indian Summer” morning.
It’s a good day for an extended visit with the lady.
Funny I talk with her but she doesn’t talk back,
But I know what she is thinking and I smile.
There’s so much to say and so little time to share.
It’s a good day, so I push myself another mile.
I go over and past the low-water crossing.
The longhorns, deer and wild turkeys ignore me;
They too, are enjoying the early sun’s warm glow.
I go my way in tune, in touch with nature’s rhapsody.
Oh, how I love the soft sounds of an early autumn morn;
Babbling creeks and birds chatting in the trees.
But unfamiliar sounds of the city interrupt my solitude.
In time they may shorten my stays, but not my memories.
— Doyle Morgan Fellers —
POET LAUREATE of DRIPPING SPRINGS, TEXAS
Old Creek Road
A wonderful day for a walk up the road.
No hat, no coat just the rising sun and me—
The smell of light air on an “Indian Summer” morning.
It’s a good day for an extended visit with the lady.
Funny I talk with her but she doesn’t talk back,
But I know what she is thinking and I smile.
There’s so much to say and so little time to share.
It’s a good day, so I push myself another mile.
I go over and past the low-water crossing.
The longhorns, deer and wild turkeys ignore me;
They too, are enjoying the early sun’s warm glow.
I go my way in tune, in touch with nature’s rhapsody.
Oh, how I love the soft sounds of an early autumn morn;
Babbling creeks and birds chatting in the trees.
But unfamiliar sounds of the city interrupt my solitude.
In time they may shorten my stays, but not my memories.
— Doyle Morgan Fellers —
POET LAUREATE of DRIPPING SPRINGS, TEXAS
Posted by DSBabble.com at Tuesday, April 07, 2009 10:24 AM 
Categories: dripping poetry
Tags: doyle morgan fellers dripping springs come sit with me national poetry month poet laureate doyle fellers
Categories: dripping poetry
Tags: doyle morgan fellers dripping springs come sit with me national poetry month poet laureate doyle fellers
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