Where The West Commences...

Sunset In The Beautiful Kansas Flint Hills
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The Flint Hills

There's a simple kind of beauty
In the Flint Hills late at night,
When the moon shines on the bluestem grass
And there's not a tree in sight.

Just a'sittin round a campfire
And warmin' to its glow,
As the deep dark blue of nighttime
Covers the hills below.

You can see the rollin' prairie
Bathed in the moon's soft light
And the stars a'specklin' the midnight sky
Givin' beauty to the night.

And out there somewhere nearby
You'll hear a nightbird trill
And the lonely cry of a coyote
Upon some rollin' hill.

It's that evenin' quiet that frees us
From the daytime's work and toil
And our busy lives can rest a spell
Out on that ancient soil.

Yes, it's a simple kind of beauty
In the Flint Hills late at night.
When the moon shines on the bluestem grass
And there's not a tree in sight.

James H. John
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Steve Goodman ~ Don't Fence Me In