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| The Harp of The Hills by � blue_panther To tell a tale so pure and free. The song of the hill are a sight to hear. High on a hill in a lawn of laurel. Sitting and sitting unwilling to move. The hills are alive. Many come to see the sun set across the ridge. As the sun sets and the heavens come alive. The beauty of the mist crawling across the spot. Beauty on the hill. The song and the dance. The little people are out. Laurels beautiful groves and the bells. The bells of the folk unseen unmoving everywhere and no-where. But above always to the left. To move your head and the bells move too. Thanks to the mountain�s. Thanks to you the mountain�s and the laurel�s are one. You are all. Bless the folk and bless the hill. Guard the gate my power is at your call. The weight of the vow, and the payment is the harp of the hill. David Stalvey Blue Panther |