6 April 2019 | National Poetry Month WebPoetrySlam

 DRIVING THE PENNSYLVANIA TURNPIKE
  
  
 I’m driving the Pennsylvania Turnpike
           Headed west at about 65.
 The sunshine from blue above lights my path
           As my dreams just come alive.
  
 I love those distant mountains
           As they reach to touch the sky;
 And the trees, those luscious treetops ~
           The sight of them soothes my eye.
  
 The trees are brightened by the sun
           In hues of green and yellow
 Which reflect into my heart and soul;
           I feel so peacefully mellow.
  
 So much open space, pastures, and lakes
           In the valleys and hills before me.
 I dream of owning some land like this
           By a river where we could be free.
  
 We’ll build our log cabin on a mountainside
           And start a little farm.
 Maybe raise a horse, a cow, and some sheep,
           And chickens around the barn.
  
 We’ll plant a garden with corn and potatoes,
           Pumpkins, beans, and, of course, flowers;
 I’ll make a rock garden with cacti and sand
           And a birdbath for cardinals’ showers.
  
 I dream of the river flowing gently past
           Our home, and it makes a cove
 Where lush willows weep over the moss;
           We can hang our hammock there, love.
  
 In the shade we’ll swing by the water
           And listen to bullfrogs jump in;
 Dangle our feet over the edge to cool,
           Or even take a swim.
  
 We’ll picnic under the willows
           And fish for trout in the stream.
 What a lovely spot to read a book,
           Write a poem, or just daydream.
  
 The mountains alongside the turnpike
           Are such inspiration for me.
 Their simple beauty captures my eyes
           And sets my dream-spirit free.

~ Shelley Evans
   

Named after poet Percy Shelley, nature inspires Shelley Evans; several poems are published, and she’ll publish a book soon. Shelley’s a wife, mother, secretary, WOK member, participates in open mic nights at Dagnys, CSUB’s poetry readings, and has entered poetry in the Kern County Fair. Rhyming is breathing to Shelley.