The following Poem was written by Helen Grace Milliman
October 20, 1909 - May 9, 1997
Submitted & copyright ©2004 Jean Milliman

Some people like the level plains with towns spread far and near

But to me the hills with valleys deep are many times more dear

There's something warm and cozy 'bout a village in a vale

Where mother nature shelters her from rain and snow and hail.

Take a town just like our Bolivar, all nestled in a bowl,

With friendly hills all wrapped around, as comfy as a stole.

It somehow makes you lift your head, as on your way you go;

Our soul finds peace and comfort as the streams wind to and fro.

As you come upon the summit of a hill that's made by God

And look down in the valley at the rivers and the sod.

It makes you feel more reverent, more attune with things that are;

It's such a wholesome feeling; it's unequaled near or far.

Our hills aren't sentinels on guard in military form,

They're lovingly protecting us from life's eternal storm.

For all this glorious splendor, dotted with nature's richest gold

Our sincere thanks, to our dear God, accept our praises bold.