Majestic Hills

When I elude away from the beleaguered land of alarum
Where the untenanted is ne'er mortal nor residing temporal
All is bound in timelessness as for a thousand years
I could never be bemused of your laurels, for they astir my every emotion
I need not a mentor to suggest routes of bliss
They are here in my devotion I behold entranced kiss

I fret not untimely oppositions; for intimacy is solely the trees I beg afoot
The leaves are like a thousand skylarks drifting in the forest essence
The valley asunder the sky is the carafe of aged fine wine
Vibrations are surpassing quiescence; they are slumbering in the wood never astir
Purity has relegated the rooks and thieves
Their weaknesses have dawned them dull among the colors of green
There is unbroken motion of trespass nor offense
All honor in one masterful and natural event I defend

The sun plays the papist of the hills and valleys
Radiance to never abandon his treasure and children
Birds play the seraphs that fill the blue with harmony at fist dawn
Beyond the serpentine hills are rolling purple until they reach the sea
Such gratitude I feel I could raise my sonorous voice with pang and glory

I have defeated my importance; humbled is my agreement to step with noiselessness
I shall not awaken the great goddess sleeping in the mysterious timbered plains
Have I the greatest respect for her unveiling her silver robe unto me
Taking me beneath her wing like a wounded fledgling
Granting me a voice to sing that I may utter kind and loving verses
My servility is midst among her retiring nest
And unto her umbrageous groves held amid her breast
Could it not be more urbane, more sensual than her?
She shall cease to wane nor bend with grief
I give my heart to her full in valorous belief

As she grows and cultivates her descendants
She gives birth to the most prestigious and eminent
Hers seedlings each day she nurtures beginning in the vernal season
It is her that can never abrade my soul
She can only so heal her patrons o'er her grove

I am the amative fool who adores her retreat and acclaims her throne
I will not bide nor tarry our blending of wild rose and cerise heart
I shall seize her gardens to lovingly ravish and enchant her art
I shall behold her body with charm and enrapture
I serenade and court her when she blooms in green pasture
And as she pleads love I will swoon
Among her majestic hills
I too shall bloom

By Michael R Pinnell

By Michael Ryan Pinnell