Yearning

To cross the upper valley,
And come up by the bluff.
Would give to me a yearning,
And give to me enough.

To ease the fulness of my heart,
That I have left behind.
And to comfort every fiber there,
That comes up in my mind.

For I have loved each bend and curve,
That lays upon the land.
The wasteland ever stretching on,
The briar-bush and sand.

For it is such a glorious past,
And memories hold a part.
For it is latched to ever hold,
Securely to my heart.

So often do I dream of it,
That place so far away.
And the bands that keep it solid,
Will with me ever stay.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

Looking west towards Yost, Utah from a mountain top.