Satinldy's(Hilda) Journal

The mountain is majestic,���������������

as it reaches to the sky;

At times it seems to bow its head,

To let the the clouds go by.

The sun in all its glory,

peeks over itsjaded domicile,

and struggle in their nests.

The rippling of the clear cool stream,

Is music to my ears.

Polished by the years.

To those who has trod,

And no other thing can guite compare

To this masterpiece of God.

����������� By:Satinlady