Wednesday, April 15, 2009

A Highland Hymn

White clouds rise from a patchwork lake
Soaring fast as if racing with the sun
My thoughts are of you at this sanctified hour
Only you and of the fishnet waters below

I saw you at the creation of the lake waters
You were there when they sowed the first wild flower
The mountains were sculpted from your silhouette
Waterfall cascades were copied from your tresses

I claim you as my soul's friend and bride
The mountain breeze echoes this declaration
Tiny songbirds fill the air with joyful song
In harmony with the resonant timbre of my words

My voice carries over the orchards, the waters of the lake
Past fruit pickers, fishermen, fishwives, horse riders
Bouncing off evergreens, fruit stands and diners
Proudly bannered, rising and falling on the steep ridge

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