Image by kenne
How often at night
When the heavens were bright
By the light of the twinkling stars,
Have I stood here amazed
And asked as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of ours.
The air is so clear,
The breeze so pure,
The zephyr so balmy and light;
I would not exchange
My home here on range
Forever in azure so bright.
from “The Western Home”
Great picture and wonderful poem. There’s just something about fences that just draws you into the picture, isn’t there?
Thank you. Yes, the eye is drawn to fence lines.