Below the emerald mountaintops,
Guardians of the ocean breeze,
One finds a valley of fair crops,
Delicate soil, & buzzing bees.

Convivial whips of sunlight
Stroke lavish groves of hardy trees.
On every branch, hidden from sight,
Fruit slumber underneath the leaves.

It is no wonder that Steinbeck
Cherished his California roots;
The land of viridescent trek,
Unyielding sunshine, & fresh fruits.

Here placid air unbinds the chains
Which hinder a poetic mind.
Away from life’s rigorous strains,
Deep thoughts are vividly defined.

In the midst of the Salinas Valley,
Ideas amass wings with which to soar...