The hills are forever rolling with it's dusty <br />Dirt roads, leading to the great hemlock forests. <br />Deer are grazing in the open corn fields not <br />Understanding man's intolerance for their presence. <br /> <br />Streams are feverishly overflowing <br />Their gold to nature's wild creatures. <br />Crisp, cool fresh evening air is delightful <br />And fills my lungs with it's purity; <br />Life goes at a slow embracing pace. <br />The blazing orange-rose blushed sunset leaves <br />One in awe at mother earth's splendor. <br /> <br />Like a clock, the earth is forever moving. <br />It's pendulum is man regulating, under or over, <br />Tilting, tilting until an equilibrium is met; <br />It assures us the arm of life is not yet broken.<br /><br />Elizabeth Fontaine Grieco<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/kunkletown-road/
