Mountain Top Retreat
There’s a place in the Blue Ridge.
Where the mountain faces Tennessee.
It escapes detection and is accessible
only through childish reverie.
By all children who in their thoughts
and dreams of feelings not forgot.
Their young minds clouded in mystery
of fairy tale and chivalry of Lancelot.
This Alpine glen, gently sloping meadow,
with Fraser fir trees and flowing well,
Periwinkle, sage and wild strawberry,
Sporting Bee Balm and Oconee Bell.
Its praises sung by lonely whippoorwill,
a place for animals to share refuge.
Where the small rule in importance
and the large never think of deluge.
The log cabin long since turned to dust
A tiny pile of stone, not much
to indicate the love, the life
haunting this place with gentle touch.
The young girl in eighteen sixty two
left alone by need of country.
Then the daughter raised alone
who taught the animals to be friendly,
A legacy of love and life’s spirit spent
in this lovely place of quiet retreat.
Befriending woodchuck and white tailed deer
and others she would chance to meet.
The animals learned that survival of the fittest
did not belong in this place of loving favor.
That it was much more beneficial
to learn to live lovingly together.
© May 04 2010 For Mac's "Your Best Poem" contest
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