My Mountians Poem by Jamie Wallace

Peaks that touch the sky,
trees give dimention to otherwise flat hills.
The scent of pine tingles in my nose.

A waterfall spills into a pool at my feet,
small fish swimin slow circles.
Crystal rocks glitter at the bottom.

We played here as children,
following paths that never end.
Our imaginations leading us endless places.

When will i see,
the sweet rolling hills
and feel the crisp clean breeze?

Maybe in a dream...