I long...

I long for a morning mountain,

as I take my pen in hand...and try vainly to capture the wonder,

the beauty on paper, and then...

I'd love to just hear a faint trickle of a little meandering stream,

that tickles my ears with it's music,

and teases the sun with it's gleam.

Then I'd love to be perched on some clover,

so soft and cool to my cheek,

with blue sky above to caress me,

beside that frolicking creek.