THE ENCHANTED MOUNTAIN

I WAS OUT WALKING ON THE ENCHANTED MOUNTAIN, THIS MORNING, ON THE SIDE OF WHICH I RESIDE, MY FAITHFUL DOG BLACKIE BY MY SIDE, A FOOL OF A DOG, BUT THE KIND OF FOOL TIS ASY TO LOVE' AND I STOOD AWHILE TO MUZE, TO GAZE OUT OVER THE VALLEY, AND PONDER, HOW LUCKY I WAS, TO LIVE IN SUCH A PLACE, THE MIST WRAPPED SHROUD LIKE, AROUND THE PEAK, AS IF HOLDING IT IN ITS DAMP EMBRACE, THROUGH FEAR OF LONELINESS.

THE SHEEP GRAZING QUIETLY, ON THE SLOPES, ANCIENT MONUMENTS SCATTERED. AROUND IN VARIOUS STATES OF PRESERVE, THE WATER FROM FRESH SPRINGS, MEANDERED DOWN THE VALLEY, IN STREAMLETS, IN CREDENCE, AND CASCADE, THE HAWKS, VENTURING FROM THE FOREST TO SEEK, TIS THAT KIND A PLACE, YED BELIEVE IN FAIRIES.

AND I WONDERED, HAD THE PEOPLE FROM PREVIOUS GENERATIONS. WHO HAVE LIVED HERE IN SOME CONTINUANCE SINCE 5000 B.C, STOOD HERE TO ADMIRE, TO APPRECIATE, TO BE ENCHANTED BY ITS BEAUTY, OR WERE THEY TOO BUSY JUST FIGHTING FOR EVERYDAY SURVIVAL, TO APPRECIATE IT

BLACKIE, THE FOOL OF A DOG, NUZZLED MY HAND, DISTURBING MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT, AS IF TO SAY, 'COME ON WHATS KEEPING YOU' I GAVE HIM A REASSURING PAT ON THE HEAD, AND WITH A LAST LOOK BACK TOWARDS THE ANCIENT STONE FORT, IN THE 'WOLFS GAP', I HEADED BACK DOWN THE BOG ROAD HOME, DEEPLY APPRECIATING HOW LUCKY I WAS, TO LIVE AS MY ANCIENT ANCESTORS HAD, ASIDE THE GENTLE HAUNTING SLOPES, OF 'THE ENCHANTED MOUNTAIN'


AWAY GO I TO THE GLEN,
WHERE THE LITTLE GREEN FERNS
WAVE GENTLY
AT THE PASSING STREAM.