Upon the mountains, silence reigns, Wrapped in mists of softly woven skies. Here, every rock and stone retains The stories of the ages, wise.

The river flows like time unbroken, A timeless track upon the land, And by its banks, mere words are spoken, In whispers of a gentle hand.

The crags, the spruces, stand as sentinels, Guardians of the secrets held, In every breeze, a sweet farewell, Leaving tales of life, upheld.

  • T E Lawrence