Kings and queens
Of what is green;
They touch heaven
With prickly fingers
And stand on hell
With gnarled feet;
Mountain clothing,
They cover to the sea;
Red is their color,
Green is their hair;
Their arms are many
Oh, so high they reach;
So old they are,
Wise are they;
Their smell goes
Beyond the Rockies
And south to the desert;
They are home to me,
Heavy and rich
Chief Seattle's
War canoe is from
Their back bone,
His oars are from
Their strong arms.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
Kings and queens
Of what is green;
They touch heaven
With prickly fingers
And stand on hell
With gnarled feet;
Mountain clothing,
They cover to the sea;
Red is their color,
Green is their hair;
Their arms are many
Oh, so high they reach;
So old they are,
Wise are they;
Their smell goes
Beyond the Rockies
And south to the desert;
They are home to me,
Heavy and rich
Chief Seattle's
War canoe is from
Their back bone,
His oars are from
Their strong arms.
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