as colorful dawn by sleepers not known
as light does its highlighting chore
the valley serene in rich autumn garb
no brown green and clean as before
silent and teeming with life so respectful
of rest to the mind and soul
wisp of mist called by a sky
as rays from the east take their toll
how many years has this rock turned its face
to warmth and pleasure of Sol
shadows which fade and crannies which open
bear witness to eons untold
when will it tire this lovely home
this oasis in space and the black
eternity is as forever of something
afoot not known at our back
a valley of oneness a privacy real
no sounds of the trappings of progress
no neighbor or hound or vocal chords strained
no doubt to some seen as regress
this treasure of mine so rich in its being
at times I could with others share
such solitude so pleasing to eye
but few friends would paradise bear
when sleeping is done and in the dim glow
of dawn the eye seeks out
this picture of life this oil of hand
so steady so real and without
facade or whim or frivolities jibe
a solid as rock guarantee
of tomorrows light and sight smell and sound
and peace solitude free
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
as colorful dawn by sleepers not known
as light does its highlighting chore
the valley serene in rich autumn garb
no brown green and clean as before
silent and teeming with life so respectful
of rest to the mind and soul
wisp of mist called by a sky
as rays from the east take their toll
how many years has this rock turned its face
to warmth and pleasure of Sol
shadows which fade and crannies which open
bear witness to eons untold
when will it tire this lovely home
this oasis in space and the black
eternity is as forever of something
afoot not known at our back
a valley of oneness a privacy real
no sounds of the trappings of progress
no neighbor or hound or vocal chords strained
no doubt to some seen as regress
this treasure of mine so rich in its being
at times I could with others share
such solitude so pleasing to eye
but few friends would paradise bear
when sleeping is done and in the dim glow
of dawn the eye seeks out
this picture of life this oil of hand
so steady so real and without
facade or whim or frivolities jibe
a solid as rock guarantee
of tomorrows light and sight smell and sound
and peace solitude free
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