Mountain Morn Poem by william mae

I beheld this early morn
A brisk mountain day was born.
I pictured clear both glen and dell,
Also the travelers traveled trail.

The light reflected off its rill,
Lit the way high on the hill.
The trail in sinews fashions went,
Dropped at times to steep descent.

Obstructed part by rock and limb,
Still the pathway had no end.
I gazed upward toward the sky
Till out of view the mountainside.

Here the timber sharply rose,
Run the length in constant rows.
Most evident was the water source,
How violently it runs its course.

And rising up along its peak
Like and age old God of Greek.
A towering wall reaching high,
as at it’s top began the sky.

Along it’s rigid bordered crest
The fowl had placed its thorny nest.
The sun began to raise its head,
As though was rising from the dead.

And as a guard would sound alarms
Warning all to take up arms.
An eagle launched from off its roost,
And with a daring diving swoop,

Dauntlessly his piping chord
Rang down the seldom-traveled gorge.
His reoccurring sounding blast
Echoes to answer him at last.

A darkened image in the sky,
Watched me as he flew close by.
Down the valley farther still,
Grew flowers such as daffodils.

I stood amid the rocky glades,
And listened to some hounds at bay.
Their nose scanned the scented grounds,
Their rhythmic feet, echoes a sound.

The heated chase was drawing nigh,
And louder now came each dogs cry.
They thought the hunt would shortly end
And find reward there once again.

But this was not the case to be,
For as I gazed among the trees.
I saw a doe and stag appear,
The stag was trailing at the rear.

Just as I had seen before,
The stag climbed roughly ore.
Up along the rocky pass,
The doe was being chased at last.

The hounds came pounding up the trail,
Across the glen and down the dell.
Too great a number for all to lead,
The weaker trailed the stronger breed.

Close behind I heard the yells
Rippling up the rocky trail.
The sound of horsemen closely near,
The hounds trailing at the rear.

Pushing harder all the time,
The hounds that had been left behind.
No one had noticed of all who road,
The stag had left the hunting show.

Barely could I hear their sounds,
Till finally there were silenced grounds.
I turned and looked upon the hill
Wandering how this stag must feel.

Then from the promontory glades,
Slipping long the gulches shade.
This mystic creature kingly state
Now walking in a broken gate.

Paused in a hesitating stance,
His stare more than a cordial glance.
Impending was his flight to be
Amid the rocks and sheltered trees.

A silhouette against the sky,
The rarest moment witnessed I.
He knew that he had once again
Used his natural wits to win.

His hoof repeatedly stomped the ground,
He snorted once then wheeled around.
From his haunch he made his flight
Back to his lair and out of sight.

Without a glitch he cleared the brush,
He left behind just settling dust.
Still intact his royal pride,
He vanished to the other side.

The chase would come again someday,
But for now the silence stayed.
He bounced off to a distant place
Where he could rest in deeper shade.

Here some scattered lentil seeds
Laurel shrubs with glossy leaves.
Markings where the stag had been,
Scrapes and rubs and drifting scents.

Nestled in an inlet pass,
Mid a copse of trees and grass.
The rugged trail run closely near,
A haven for a mountaineer.

The hut though weathered aged and old,
Provided shelter from the cold.
It’s wooden shingles sagging swayed
Sun bleached to a darkened gray.

Reaching up from each ravine
Slowly hiding the mountain scene.
The shadows in their silent way,
Shown the passing of the day.

I gathered wood up for the night,
To give me warmth and also light.
And now the sun in its repose,
Left the sky a distant glow.

Till even that was leaving too,
Another day was finally through.
The fire’s reflection on the grounds,
Made shadows seem to dance around.

Not far beyond my lighted room,
The pines were whispering a tune.
Ore and ore the whispering cries
Echoed across the darkened sky.

The scent of smoke now filled the air,
And at the brightest star I stared.
Thinking what a sight to see,
There was no better place to be.

A peaceful calm now filled the night,
Cares and worries hid from sight.
My bedroll spread upon the grounds,
I closed my ears to distant sounds.

I woke up early in the morn,
Another mountain day was born.
Once again the sun shown bright
It’s brilliant rays of blinding light.

Causing shadows to not be seen,
Slipping back to deep ravines.
The silence of a mountain morn,
The beauty of her day adorned.

An owl broke silence with its yell,
Just to break the silenced spell.
But then returned to quiet calm,
And watched this mountain morning dawn.

I gazed upon a stream below
And watched the rippling water flow.
A pair of ducks swam back and forth,
Geese were flying from the north.

Another day of mountain scene,
More beauty than I’d ever seen.
The fragrant flowers mingled there,
Twisted pines that stood in pairs.

The rising peaks and crested tops,
A person here would surly stop.
And drink upon this solitude,
Enjoy the moment and the mood.