Child of the Mountain

Up in the mountains, wild and free, Where the winds blow fierce and the eagles soar, Nature cradles its child tenderly, In the heart of wilderness, evermore.

Here the brook’s laughter spells delight, As it tumbles over stones, bright and clear, And the sky unveils a shimmering light, A canvas where dreams can freely steer.

The whispering trees with stories weave, With branches that cradle the stars above, And in this sanctuary, one can believe, In the wisps of nature, the echoes of love.

• Mary Webb