She’s a gift you know,

so long ago,

Her face piercing through the bay.

Time has a way of talking,

Past, present, and today.

Her fence, sometimes clouded by fog,

On an early rise.

While folks sit upon the bench,

Deep in thought, a bond that ties.

The trees reach out as the sun peeks through,

A clearing for those to see.

Her majesty of freedom,

Known as “Lady Liberty”.

In the distance, we see man,

His journey no one knows.

She stands proud for our nation,

As her history only grows.

© By Teresa Bellamy Walker