Untitled - May 23, 2002
 
Along the hidden paths 
that dot the lush green hills,
an echoing laughter is heard.
 
Resounding from the valley
up into the hillsides
are the silvery chimes of joy.
 
The spring mornings
see wet dew cascading
across the surface
of small pools of water,
until it becomes a torrent
of sheer liquidity
crashing through 
the silence of creeks
and valleys.
 
The bright sunlight 
reflects easily across
the running waters,
until it mirrors
the slight smile
running across your lips.

    Source: geocities.com/pdt_bear/pomes

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