The rain will fill the ears,
Driving into the trees,
Making it so hard to see,
It can tip toe through the forests
As softly as the moonbeams its clouds hide.
My home is a place where the water runs freely.
My home is a place of blue, green and brown,
From light to gold
Douglas to Maple to Oak they grow bold,
I climb them to the top,
Learning every grain and drop.
My home is a place where the trees stretch to the blue.
My home is a place of blue, green and brown,
I hike into the snow,
Scaling every rock and cliff.
They grow from the roots of the earth,
Touching my home, my resting berth.
My home is a place where the mountains hide.
My home is a place of blue, green and brown,
The tundra flat, the desert shifting,
Changing over the years,
Yet still I see the golden hills of fine grit,
The rolling hills forever sunlit.
My home is a place where the jewels stay hidden in the sand.
My home is a place of bountiful colors,
Green in the grass and the trees,
Brown in the earth and the sand,
Gold in the warm stars and sun,
And blue in the water and sky.
My home is a place where the moon watches over us.
My home is a place of many wild things,
The deer racing through the plain,
The squirrels skittering up the trees,
The snakes sliding through the sand,
And the eagles thst soar through the sky,
My home is a place where all have a place.
My home is a free land,
Where the people are equal and happy,
Or hidden and kept in the shadows,
Where the country never falters in its treasures,
Or stays the same,
My home is my castle,
Where ever I may want to go.