By: Arjan Wardekker
Colors to caress my eye,
heart's desire paints the sky.
Rugged slopes in evening haze,
tow'ring is the mountains' grace.
Whisp'ring wind it fills my ear,
speaks of waters crystal clear.
Peaks of stone from days of old,
ancient wisdom they now hold.
On the rim last light still shines,
in my heart it soft reclines.
Mountains sing for those who hear,
mystic silence is them dear.
In their song my thoughts now dance,
sword and bow they have no chance,
cannot reach where I now sigh,
inner light I can't deny.
written on: 27-07-2006 and 28-07-2006
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