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