Page 6
By Jack Joseph Smith
It is a continual exploration with birth,
standing on shoulders, showered with LEAVES
And mother is the lady who does not yawn
And a mallberry bush does not put
a wifes mind to sewing
On the medow marrying young;
crushed black and tan and golden too
Fire for coal and wood alike
We are the only spring
So we bless the three AS other seasons
To our rest, for others to judge
Yes; and when going out without a word for work,
there is allowed a thought of John Brown,
and a home at Harper's Ferry;
a continuation of valleys, canyons, plains,
we have
and the asphalt from Utah To West Virigian
just for nothing