The Valley of the Laughing River

Oh. My. Word. You must read this poem I found in one of the boxes!! I am assuming that this was written by my grandfather, Jeffa Porter Hill, Jr. It was typed on two pieces of plain paper and folded neatly in the box. He even signed the second page. It is typed in his words, using his spacing and spelling.


The Valley of the Laughing River
by Porter Hill

The Valley of the Laughing River
Lies among the Great White Mountains,
Like a pearl among the sandwastes,
Showing up with shining raidiance,
Reaching with green hills to heaven.
In this valley there is wildness
Where the white man never enters,
Where the peace goes on forever,
Goes until the end of time.
The thrush sings on the hilltops
The wild canary in the glen.
The beaver dams the rushing waters,
Dams the rushing, cold, clear waters,
Forms a lake in deep blue splendor,
Where the trout leap in the evening.
Oh, the beauty of this valley.
Oh, the beauty and the splendor,
Makes my heart call out in yearning,
Call out for this wild thing
The Valley of the Laughing River.

By the cataract of this river
Where the water roares and thunders,
Where the colors leap in rainbows
Lived a maid of wonderous beauty,
Lived alone beside the waters
Ate the berries from the bushes
Bathed in the waters of the river.
The birds sat on her sholders
Sat and sang sons of her beauty
Sang of her beauty and her kindness.
Oh, the breezes whispered 'round her
Whispered secrets of the forest
Whispered tales of love and battles
Of the hardships and of pleasures.
When she walked along the pathways
Of the rabbit and the squirrel
The trees bent down to kiss her
And carress with leafy softness.
When she passed they sighed in silence
Sighed when 'ere she kissed their fingers
Sighed when she told them how she
     loved them,
How she loved their leafy shelter.

The run arose with splendor
Sent rays of warmth and sunshine
To the corners of the valley
Dancing lightly on the river, bounding
     Back into the sky.
Then the rays fell on a figure
Lying by the Laughing River.
His features shown of hunger
Of hunger and privation.
The birds talked to each other,
"Who is this funny creature
That comes into our valley?"
The rabbits told here of this stranger
Of this stranger in their valley
Lying by the Laughing River
White and silent in the sun.
He had entered the dominion
Of the wild things and this maiden.

Chiwa looked from out the bushes
At this man beside the river.
Oh, her breath caught in the rapture
Of the sight that now beheld her.
She had dreamed long of his coming
Of his coming to this valley.
She had dreamed he'd come and get
     her.
Take her way beyond the mountains
To the land way to the westward
Where a lake of unknown greatness
Beat the shores in sounds of thunder.
Where the land was always sunshine
Never came the cold and blizzard.
Now a land of milk and honey
Burst forth upon her vision.

She ran back into her bower
Where she stirred the glowing embers
Of here slowly dying fire.
She ran into the forest
Picked the leaves of plants and flowers,
Crushed the juices from their greeness.
Then she ran onto the meadow
On the meadow by the river.
Knelt beside the dying stranger
Raised his head into her arms
Made him sip the healing potient
Stroked the hair back from his forehead.
His eyelids fluttered slightly
Finally opened to full vision
Falling on this queen of beauty.
He stirred and then sat upright
Steadied by the hand of Chewa.
Was he dead and now in Heaven?
Looking at a georgeous angel?