I like to see the rolling hills
Around our town that lay,
Pushing up from the earth,
These low mountains on display.
No, they're not like the Rockies,
With their lofty peaks of snow,
These mountains rise but gently,
But they're pleasant to us below.
Spreading from the foot hills
Are manifold fields of grain.
Kept green and growing
By the gentle falling rain.
Each farm holds such beauty,
Nestled in a valley of trees.
The windmill turning and turning,
With each passing of a breeze.
The cows all there in the meadow
A cool stream meandering by.
Ah, God is good to us here in Maryland
With His bountiful rich supply.
© by Paul H. Leaman
This writing may be used in its entirety, with credits in tact,
for non-profit ministering purposes.
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