Gazing up at the precipice above,
At snowy peaks carved by our God on high,
These silent giants loom o’er my love
As their sharp craggy cliffs cut the sky.
The dips and drops are full, thus lost
Gray frosted pines set ‘cross the white,
Chocolate cakes spread with that snowy frost –
The purple shade, the bright white light.
Their frozen graceful silence enthralls you,
Just as your warm voice has bewitched me.
You yearn for these rocky hills pale and blue,
Just as I long most ardently for thee.
To compare thee with a powdered elevation,
I can’t discern which the more fine creation.