by Raymond S. Nelson
The turning blades on treeless Kansas plains
Made farms and ranches possible despite
The early Judgement that elusive rains
Kept this the Great American Desert. Bright
Young settlers dug their wells and built the mills
To water herds and irrigate their crops.
Their lofty fans were landmarks on the hills
And prairies, welcome havens, welcome stops
For weary travelers on their westward trails.
The farms became oases, offering food
And water, care and shelter from the gales
That pummeled from the south. The mills, though crude
And elemental, cleared the path for days
Of growth and change that led to modern ways.
Source: Thy Love is Better than Wine
Raymond S. Nelson - ©1994
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