Lovers Hill

  I will leave you with this poem, I've dedicated to my childhood friend who's getting married this weekend.

Petals thin as spindled silk

of roses red as rubies,

float gently on eastward wind.

Desending on a whim, they land in a gurgling stream.

those petals so fine, ride on purest water

running down from mountain peak.

Clear cold mountain water adorned with crimson pearls,

wined in serpentine around lovers hill.

In meadow with singing larks and sparrows,

with trees of pine and cherry,

 golden wheat and buttercups with splashes of violets

and bluebells,

this make lovers, coveted meadow hill,

where those whose hearts are bound in love

lay under shaded trees near babbling brook

now adorned with red silken petals and greenest leaves.

Under the noon day sun with blue sky, lovers lay

on threshed wheat with flowers wild, strewn in hair.

They confess their truest love beating in their hearts,

vowing on this beautiful June day,

to love and Cherish

before Mother Earth and Father Sky, the lovers

blessed love is bound in marriage of heart and mind.

On this lovers hill, beneath the holy pine,

under shining June skies,

beside clear mountain brook adorned in natures gems,

these two lovers lives are entwined.