Between the milky ways
Of a cloud-spangled pale-blue sky,
And a bubbling glacial river beneath–
Who dances through the mountain rocks–
A moment of glory in white,
Then a liquid ballerina in blue.
In carefree sways, my heart floats
To the violin tunes of the pine-laced zephyrs.
With eyes, as hungry as the valleys–
Which ache for a drop of liquid gold
On the sweet green meadows’ chalice;
With streams of amber sunshine they’re blessed;
Which crack in mirth to behold the view
Of the gypsy sunrise in clear hues of russet.
The mountains smile–
Tipping their snow-caps in courtesy;
Speaking waterfall music on gentle verdant slopes.
Summertime skies glow radiant;
Lights sparkle before my eyes–
Friendly, as the morning snow;
And I surrender myself to the breezy lilts–
Together with the day-spring blossoms
In the bountiful verdure gilt–
Stained with flaxen locks of a beaming dell sun.