Gentle Hills by Marjorie Spalsbury

These one hundred forty-one poems are the voice of a woman who loved God, life, her children, and the beautiful small town of Logan, Ohio, where she was born and lived. Here are short, lovely poems that will warm your heart, bring a smile to your face, and a nod of appreciation for a point well made. The author saw magic and grace in the events of a seemingly ordinary life. These poems express her appreciation for the extraordinary in every small thing, if one only takes the time to look for it. No deep philosophical poems here, instead these are poems that will touch your heart, your spirit, and your soul. As you read these poems you can picture the author sitting in her garden, with her cat and her flowers around her. She wrote about what she knew, saw, and loved: Albert (her gold cat), children and grandchildren, tea parties, getting older, Christmas, Easter, thunder and wind, stars and storms, the herb woman, the rocking chair, a star quilt, Dee’s pillow, and even Dandelions and Mr. McCarty Is Dead. DANDELIONS Children love the yellow dandelions, And pick them for their bouquets. Most grown-ups dig them up And throw them away. But there is a secret Only angels know God made them just for children That’s why dandelions grow. MR. McCARTY IS DEAD Mr. McCarty is dead I feel like crying But I’ll smile instead Because that’s the way He’d want it. I loved this dear old man Who walked with a cane Past my house each day And never complained Of the arthritis that bothered him. He’d been a farmer All his life Until his wife Died five years ago And he moved to town Next door to me. He taught me how to prune the trees And entice the bees To pollinate the flowers He helped the children find lost balls And planted tulips for me in the fall. He had a gentle smile And quiet faith. How bright God’s heaven is tonight With him there. Mr. McCarty is dead I feel like crying But I’ll smile instead.