Montana in the Spring

We could see the snow on the mountain high

And the misty clouds in the blue blue sky

We could feel the touch of the gentle breeze

And watch the sway of the willow trees

We watched the flow of a babbling brook

Where a fisherman paused to bait a hook

Lambs romped in the purple clover

And cattle grazed on a hill far over

Pussy willows soft and gray

Nodded to us on our way

Purple violets all so shy

Hid themselves from passers by

Meadow larks and robins sang

In the village church bells rang

The peace and quiet of a balmy day

Made trials and troubles seem far away

All this unfolded as we passed by

Made a picture one could not buy

And so our hearts did truly sing

For Montana's so gorgeous in the Spring

-Myrtle Storm

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