That mountain beckoned every day,
Its presence calling out to me,
From bedroom window there I'd see,
It's trees ablowing in the breeze,
Twas up the steep and peaceful trail,
It's there i felt its beauty rare.
That pleasant sound of morning song,
Those birds well heard from everywhere.
I long to go back to those days,
To reach that mountain top once more.
A special time in many ways.
To walk with you just like before.
Jayne Louise Davies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem