Pausing between lines
For a meaning of words.
Such is the gaunlet
A poet must face.
There are hills easily climbed,
And views of beauty seen.
But yet you wonder
Of the mountain far off.
And as you reach its peak,
You see naught but clouds.
The beauty below you,
Is lost from your sight.
The mountain you stood on,
For a view just imagined.
Left you for a longing
Of the hill easily climbed.
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*George*
reaching the other side
Lady Vivian
We all climb and naught see the clouds as we
do not see the forest for the trees
Wonderful George
Love and Light
Lily