Mountain Song

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.

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