My First Love Montana

My First Love . . . Montana

The first time I ever saw her, I fell for her beauty and my love has never waned . . . I fell instantly for her mountains majesty reaching toward the sky. Vivid blues dotted by her vibrant green and brown peaks, almost touching those big billowy white clouds. And her river’s banks run through her forever, along the likes of the big Blackfoot, the Madison, Yellowstone, Beaver Head or the Clark Fork. Along with all the others, they cut her lands with raging waters and as they say under each rock is written the words . . . That’s my Montana.

She is poetry, natures words to man. And her words don’t have to mimic her cascading tresses, her buxom bosoms for she is my lady, my love . . . And when I am lucky enough to go back . . . She welcomes me home.

Big Sky

Looking around,
I quickly realize,
why I’m drawn
back each year,
to this place,
Montana.

In the distance,
a mountain can be seen,
with it’s browns, grays and
greens, sun shining bright,
overhead, a turquoise backdrop
and white puffy clouds.

Farther, in the distance,
another mountain and still another,
all against the blue background of the sky,
with it’s opaque, billowy clouds,
big sky, like one would see,
in a magazine.

Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004
Soon to come, Sleepless Nights

Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
dhanosh writingup
Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com
Dan’s Room 2 Write

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