(This is a "childhood" poem, written many years ago.)
High above the pristine falls
the looming mountain lifts its walls.
A monolith of stones of gray,
with bulky lips, it seems to say:
"Eons passed since I've been here;
nothing have I seen to fear
while above my walls, from year to year,
about the world below I peer.
My walls so high, so steep and strong,
protect me well from all that's wrong.
Would that Man below could see
how I keep all harm from me.
Would that he could build a wall
about his home, his family -- all --
to keep them safe from evil's charm,
which causes Man unending harm."