The mountain white,
I look across
The starry night.
And gaze upon,
In awe and wonder.
Heaven in the mist.
Where sits the creator
Of all things.
Not a man
But a maiden fair.
With sparkling eyes
And golden hair.
I shout to her
Across the rolling thunder,
And see she looks at me
In awe and wonder.
For I am the first
To see the maiden there.
She answers the question
Her voice pure and divine.
The question I asked�
Can I stay?
Richard