Green Hills
I shall not waiver nor will I digress
from gazing at these lambent hills of green
where mounds of grass like cobblestones progress
from creek beds where the ash and alder preen,
their leaves like coins that shimmer in the sun,
up to the graceful summits round and lush,
that as the waning mists become undone
and dissipate within the morning hush
are bathed in iridescent emerald.
My eyes are now redeemed of paining dark,
though stars' asunder twinkling would herald
the incandescent trilling of the lark.
Indeed with eyes enraptured I confess
I shall not waiver nor will I digress.
10/22/18
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