The western hills of Iowa;
Loess is their name.
Where Mormons stopped to rest awhile
Their ancestry to proclaim.

The catsteps and the prairie grass
Where Indians worshiped Love
The solitude that they found
Among the native sod.

Born of the ancient winds and dust
Twenty thousand years ago.
The yucca with its massive flower
Puts on a nature show.

The hills now seem like sentinels
Overlooking the plains below.
Guarding fertile farmers' fields
And also mighty "Mo."

The barges move along with ease
Their cargo to deliver--
Silently but silently,
Along the precious river.