Treasure Island

Paul the Lion

(Born in the fall of his 19th year / Comin' home to a place he'd never been before)

Sweet Mountain Air


As we hiked up into the sweet mountain air
the sunlight brought life to the deep dark forest
and glistened as the breeze blew through your hair
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  • Esther Leclerc (3/24/2006 7:54:00 AM)

    This poem reminds me of some of my best memories. Sweet in the best sense, I can almost smell that air. Thanks for this. (Report) Reply

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